A House Made of Splinters
Будинок із трісок

Danish filmmaker Simon Lereng Wilmont's extraordinarily intimate documentary takes place in a temporary orphanage located near the frontlines of the war in Eastern Ukraine the year before Russia invaded the country. The film follows several boys and girls who come to stay at this surprisingly warm and inviting facility and the tireless social workers who create a safe home for them while the state decides their individual fates. Most of their parents are dealing with poverty, addiction, domestic abuse, or homelessness and will lose custody of these children if they fail to show up for court hearings or fill out the necessary paperwork. Many details of how the bureaucracy and state social services work are left unexplored, but we learn that children can stay at this unique shelter for up to nine months. After that, if they haven’t been able to return home or find a foster family, they will get moved to a state orphanage. We never see the state-run facilities alluded to, but we can be pretty sure they don't have the cheery, daycare-dorm-like vibe of this unique place.

Wilmont's camera captures the astoundingly naturalistic behavior of these youngsters—who all seem unaware of the camera, though we know that can't be possible given the up-close nature of the photography. This intimate access to what seems to be every aspect of these children's lives can feel a bit disturbing. Deeply personal moments like phone calls with their parents (all of whom seem to be alcoholic) or meetings with potential foster families can seem like an invasion of privacy. In press materials, Wilmont makes clear that great care was taken to ensure that all the filming was consensual, though how much a kid can sign off on something that will live on forever (and now that the film has been nominated for an Oscar it is a permanent part of cinema history) is questionable. Then again, in the context of what this film presents us, we, as viewers, must ask ourselves what privacy and consent mean for kids in situations like this. Surely nothing about the lives they're living can be described as consensual.

We get to know the four main characters this movie focuses on well enough to make assumptions about their futures, which seemed bleak before the invasion in February 2022. We can only imagine what's become of them now that the war has escalated. The toll taken on this society and these poor families was already severe. Despite this, the film has an inspirational quality to it that doesn't feel manufactured or false. It showcases the patience and attention of the staff and how they foster the children's playfulness, creativity, and indomitable spirit. Even the most obviously troubled boy demonstrates tremendous love and kindness towards his younger siblings, absent mother, and caretakers. Yet this all begs the question of how long it will take before the hopeful nature of so many of the kids we see gets crushed.

Documenting childhood trauma is always a tricky business, but Wilmont avoids veering too far into exploitation or sentimentalizing his subjects. His prior film, The Distant Barking of Dogs (2017), also followed a 10-year-old Ukrainian boy growing up in a war zone. Wilmont seems to have put in the time to win over the kids he's chosen to place at the center of his film and take the trust they and the staff have placed in him seriously. We never learn the full names of the social workers who work at the orphanage, and we mostly don't see their faces, but one of these women narrates the film in brief, probably scripted passages. Through her, we learn that many children who've stayed at the shelter return a decade or so later to visit their own kids. This and so many of the other things the staff share are heartbreaking. The delicate level of intimacy, the inspiring picture of dedication in the face of so much hopelessness, and the scenes of grief and joy, distress and release, and having to grow up way too fast that are presented in this astonishing picture are both its most profound qualities and its most disturbing aspects.