You're reading: Utility workers sing with joy in new uplifting documentary

The life of utility enterprises employees in Ukraine is far from a bed of roses. They work with worn-out equipment for little pay and often feel pressured by the unsatisfied population.

But the employees of the municipal heating enterprise in the western city Ivano-Frankivsk have found a way to ease everyday stress — by singing in a choir managed by the company’s trade union.

Ukrainian filmmaker Nadia Parfan explores the work and hobby sides of their lives in her debut documentary feature “Heat Singers.”

“I love it (film) and I have very tender feelings toward it,” Parfan told the Kyiv Post. ”There are mistakes, which I love too, because it’s my journey, like the first notebook at school.”

The film premiered in April at the renowned documentary film festival Visions du Réel in Switzerland and is playing in Ukrainian theaters now. Although it has a limited distribution, it quickly became a hit, and several cinemas in Kyiv and Lviv extended screenings due to the high interest.

“(Distribution) exceeded all my expectations,” Parfan said. “It’s a very good result for an auteur film.”

Critics also praised “Heat Singers,” and it received the Best Documentary award at this year’s Kyiv Critics Week in October.

Mostly financed by Ukraine’s State Film Agency, the film was released amid a boom in Ukrainian filmmaking and joins a growing list of must-see pictures from recent years.

Marigold

“Heat Singers” begins with the choir’s performance at the Ceramics Festival in Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Dressed in traditional Ukrainian embroidered vyshyvanka shirts, the group of about 25 people in their 40s to 70s sings local folk songs. But as the film later reveals, performing is only a small part of their life.

They all work at the municipal enterprise, which provides heating and hot water to households in Ivano-Frankivsk, a city of 230,000 people located 600 kilometers west of Kyiv. They are accountants, plumbers, storekeepers and dispatchers that work alongside a 600-employee staff.

The contemplative documentary offers a look at their work routine — cutting and storing pipes, taking calls and discussing issues at meetings. But more than that, Parfan’s camera pays special attention to the enterprise’s most stressful time of year — the start of the heating season, when old equipment often fails and those who have no heating or struggle with water leaks flood the enterprise with hateful phone calls.

“You can go crazy,” one of the dispatchers says after taking a call in the film.

That’s when the choir members turn to their hobby for comfort and joy. The Marigold choir, named after one of Ukraine’s folk symbols, gathers for rehearsals to learn new songs at a small auditorium inside the municipal enterprise. Accompanied by an accordion, they perform soulful songs at all kinds of celebrations throughout the year: Independence Day, Christmas, sports competitions and art festivals.

The soul of the choir, and the film itself, is the head of the trade union, Ivan Havrylyshyn, referred to in the film as Ivan Vasylovych. A handsome man in his 70s, his appearance on screen is so organic it’s hard to believe he’s not an actor. He personally reminds every singer about the rehearsals and treats his hobby with exceptional tenderness, as if it were the deal of a lifetime for him.

“There’s something charming and charismatic about him. The camera loves him a lot,” Parfan said. “He is an idealist, a romantic, who believes in high ideals despite the low reality.”

According to the filmmaker, Ivan Vasylovych took the documentary seriously and was very helpful during the filming because he understands the importance of art, and the film gave him a chance to sum up his life.

“When a camera starts rolling, you talk to the eternity,” Parfan said.

No matter how devoted Ivan Vasylovych is to the choir, he always puts his job first and understands when singers skip rehearsals because of their duties.

“We’re not a conservatory but a heating company. First of all, heating for people, and then we sing,” he says in the film.

“Heat Singers” is a documentary feature debut of Ukrainian filmmaker Nadia Parfan, which received critical acclaim in Ukraine. (Courtesy)

Fishing

Parfan, 33, was born and raised in Ivano-Frankivsk before she moved to Kyiv in 2003. She studied cultural and urban studies and social anthropology, participated in the Fulbright graduate program in the United States and took classes in documentary filmmaking in Poland.

After traveling and studying around the world, Parfan felt the need to return to her roots, so she explored her family’s history and her home town through conversations with relatives. Her family has a long-standing connection to the city’s heating enterprise: One of her grandfathers headed it for 30 years, and her mother still works there.

That’s when Parfan’s mother reminded her of the company’s choir that she sings in as well. She told the filmmaker a story about how they once went to a festival performance by bus, which broke down on the way, and the choir members, all dressed and made up, had to walk there. The idea to do a comedic short documentary crossed Parfan’s mind.

“My dream was that this situation would repeat,” she said.

However, when she got to spend time with the choir, she realized their story wasn’t right for a short film, or a comedy. She says that the story was too complex with too many people involved. And it wasn’t all fun.

“It’s a tragic and significant story about Ukraine, about the working class that had to adapt to a new life in the 1990s (after the Soviet Union collapsed),” she said.

It took the film’s team three years to shoot “Heat Singers” and they made around 15 trips to Ivano-Frankivsk from Kyiv to capture the most significant moments of the enterprise’s life. For some events, like the start of heating season, they had to come twice because they happen only once a year and turned out to be more unpredictable than expected.

In Ukraine, heating is usually turned on in the middle of October, when the temperature drops below 8 degrees Celsius and holds for three days straight. However, Parfan says that during the first year of filming in 2016, the city authorities decided to start the heating season early, and the crew didn’t have a chance to film it.

“We just failed to make it there on time,” she said.

But unpredictable developments are a regular occurrence in documentary filmmaking, the director says.

“Our set is life,” Parfan said. “It’s like fishing: It can bring challenges or it can be dead boring.”

The “Heat Singers” documentary spotlights the work and hobby lives of the workers of the municipal heating enterprise, which provides heating and hot water to households in Ivano-Frankivsk. (Courtesy)

Shamans

Overall, “Heat Singers” is an uplifting film filled with humor. But it also raises very important issues in modern Ukraine, including corruption, chaotic governance, pathetic salaries and poverty.

While the population complains about poor services and high tariffs, the enterprise workers stand in between them and the authorities, taking a hit from both sides. They are, in a way, the victims of the system who also live on some of the lowest salaries in the country.

They have to use worn-out equipment to fix old pipelines, sometimes in extremely dangerous circumstances, such as basements in emergency conditions. In one of the scenes, the plumbers check pipes in an old apartment building basement, its floor drenched with water, walls covered in moisture and electric wires barely attached to the ceiling.

Despite the poor conditions, many of the employees have no choice but to stay at the enterprise. Most of them are people in their 40s and older who have been working at the company for dozens of years and know nothing else.

“Unfortunately, we live in a very ageist society that treats people of the working class arrogantly,” Parfan said.

When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, Ukraine inherited the utilities sector from it, and with it, its employees. In a way, they are the guardians of the secrets of how to make all this old crumbling equipment bring heat to homes.

Parfan plays with this comparison, and the work scenes often maintain a mysterious tone. The director says that one of her friends and fellow directors phrased it perfectly.

“They are like shamans, the last keepers of the knowledge,” Parfan quotes her friend. “And heat is magic.”

Watch “Heat Singers” in Ukrainian with English subtitles. Zhovten (26 Kostiantynivska St.) Nov. 15-20. 11:10 a.m., 3:45 p.m., 6:20 p.m. Hr 45-105