You're reading: Victory in Cannes

CANNES, France – The camera shows a trail in the forest, then follows a train moving slowly through the woods before cutting to a group of schoolchildren who start running on their coach's order without a whistle. They keep at it for the next 15 minutes.

These are all scenes from the short Ukrainian film, “Cross,” which was done well enough to win the Palme D’Or for its category at the 64th Cannes Film Festival on May 23.

For Ukraine, it’s the second victory in the same category since 2005.

Young Ukrainian director Maryna Vroda screened the cross country run, remembering her physical education lessons.

But the film, which touched the acclaimed jury, digs beyond a high school routine.

It’s a story of a teenager who ditches class in the forest and has to face different protrusions of adult life on his own.

Trying to catch up with the group, he meets two young mothers with babies in carriages.

Nonchalant, one woman puffs on a cigarette as the other complains of being worn out and in need of a good rest. “And I would like a beer,” adds the smoker.

The teenager wants to bum a cigarette from one of the mothers and gets slapped on the face in return.

He falls down. As he gets up, his classmates are out of sight but he accidentally notices two men beating somebody to the ground.

The assailants notice the boy, so he has to run even faster to avoid more trouble.

This plot would be painfully familiar to a post-Soviet audience but its meaning to a foreign viewer is a subject to debate.

During the opening in Cannes, some people in the cinema spotted incongruities: “Why aren’t they dressed in sports uniforms and why does the coach have no whistle?”

But Vroda and Ukrainians know this isn’t a slip-up. The absence of whistles and matching uniforms is a reality in Ukrainian high schools.

But it’s not the point, said the filmmaker.

“I am Ukrainian and I film my environment. So what you see is a background and it will always be there. Everybody is looking for justice, but I don’t believe in it,” said Vroda, flashing a sad smile.

Despite drinking mothers and a beating in the woods, Vroda said that her film had nothing to do with social issues.

Instead, “its poetry in motion, in the ball on the water and in the train” leads to another conclusion.

“Running with the herd hurts an individual, but on the other hand, takes away the fear of independent thinking,” she said.

The young director also had to act independently. She struggled to get Ukrainians finance her film, which cost only 4,000 euros to produce.

Shot with a digital photo camera, it was finally put together thanks to French sponsors.

And so Vroda, just like her lead character, proved that the Ukrainian film industry can finally win even if it’s running behind the group of champions.

Alina Shumova is a freelance journalist; story translated by Nataliya Horban.