Bucha

It takes a person walking through hell to see what they are truly made of. When war, the greatest of human evils, made itself manifest through the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine, heroes emerged from amid the ordinary people. Konstantin Gudauskas (Cezary Lukaszewicz) was among them and successfully lead 203 Ukrainians to freedom. However, despite this powerful narrative foundation, Bucha falls short at delivering as a dignifying execution, revealing that the weight of this story may have been too great for director Stanislav Tiunov to bear.

Gudauskas is a Kazakhstani who has been granted political asylum in Ukraine years before the war, placing him amid the whirlwind from the beginning. As the first missiles are hitting Kyiv, he is guilt-tripped into going on his first assignment, which requires him to drive the pregnant wife and children of a high-profile Ukrainian, who is wanted by the Russian troops, back to safety. After being reluctant, he has a sudden change of heart, ending up voluntarily continuing to offer his services to anyone in need.

There is a lack of context regarding the protagonist’s pivotal decision-making process, particularly the shift from self-preservation to the heroic act of sacrificing himself to save others. The other characters also flit from one idea to another, evolving in an inorganic manner that undermines their potential depth. Alongside with the brave-hearted Konstantin, his complete antithesis is introduced – a corrupt Russian solider. What is anticipated to be a complex dynamic initiating a dance between backgrounds of opponents in order to explore two clashing worlds ends up being nothing more than a superficial approach to the portrayal of both sides.

There is an ongoing nature to the expectations being set. The cinematography and soundtrack show promise in the opening quarter. Beautiful shots and a greyish colour palette subtly evoke the atmosphere of Ukraine at the onset of war. Tense music interspersed with wailing sirens immerses the audience in the gravity of such catastrophic events. Yet, this promise is squandered as Tiunov to commit to a consistent storytelling tone. The mood swings with the soundtrack transitioning to uplifting tunes each time Konstantin gears up for a new quest. Adding to the disarray are questionable camera choices, such as filming upside down, which detracts from the film's overall seriousness.

Although beginning with the potential for a profound exploration of sacrifice and heroism amid chaos, we are ultimately left with a narrative that meanders aimlessly. The promise of a gripping story, grounded in the stark realities of war, is overshadowed by inconsistencies and shallow character arcs. While the backdrop of war is vivid and visceral, the human stories that unfold are curiously hollow, echoing the chaos outside but failing to capture the complexities within. In the end, what could have been a masterful portrayal of human resilience instead serves as a cautionary tale about the pitfalls of superficial storytelling in times of profound crisis.