No one can truly escape a war
Olga is a poignant reminder of how one can be equally doomed by remaining in a strife-torn country or leaving it. And with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the message is both timely and relevant.
Director Elie Grappe’s debut film, Olga, now showing for free at the European Film Festival, has a stinging, unintended relevance to Russia’s continuing war in Ukraine. Set in 2013, it follows Olga, a teenage Ukrainian gymnast chasing dreams of the Olympic Games. Her mother is an outspoken investigative journalist whose public criticisms of President Viktor Yanukovych have made her a target for intimidation and assassination.
Out of concern for her safety, Olga is sent to compete for Switzerland (the country of her late father) in the European championships. Shortly after arriving, the crackdown on the Euromaidan protests turns her country into a war zone, forcing the 15-year-old to make huge decisions about her life.
The film was released in 2021, before the Russian invasion, but Olga’s exile in Europe and the guilt and pain of being separated from her home and loved ones are a tragically relatable Ukrainian experience at the moment. Indeed, the actress who plays Olga, Anastasiia Budiashkina, has recently been forced to flee Ukraine and has also been living in Switzerland.
To compete for the Swiss team, Olga would have to become a Swiss citizen, which means forfeiting her Ukrainian passport as Ukraine doesn’t allow dual citizenship. But if she chooses to return and join her family and friends behind the barricades of Maidan Square, she may never be able to leave the country and lose her opportunity to compete at a high level.
Olga is constantly having opinions barked at her, compelling her to remain in Switzerland: her mother asks her to stay so that she’s safe; her coach insists that going home will do nothing to help Ukraine; and her Swiss family doesn’t understand Ukraine’s fight for freedom or even recognise it as a revolution. Few sympathise with her agony at seeing videos of her friends and family fighting back home.
The ping of her phone comes to portend scenes of carnage – the film incorporates actual footage from Kyiv, each clip more brutal than the last.
Grappe’s portrayal of Olga’s flux between child and adult is handled expertly. Olga is often shown alone in large spaces, such as a running track or a gymnasium hall. As a viewer we are acutely aware of her vulnerability, a girl who still travels with a teddy, alone in a foreign country with nobody watching her back.
She’s also spiritually alone, unable to integrate with her Italian- and French-speaking teammates, underestimated by her coach and shamed by her Ukrainian friends for not being there with them.
Olga draws our attention to those who have escaped the mayhem of Ukraine, Afghanistan or Somalia but still live with the guilt, terror and alienation of exile.
Grappe struggles to resolve the story, opting for a slow, vaguely optimistic open ending that is pitifully ironic given what we now know: a bright scene informed by the brief peace for which Ukrainians still hoped before Russian President Vladimir Putin’s war came crashing down.
Olga is being screened for free online at the European Film Festival from 21 to 23 October. Live screenings are on 16 October at The Zone in Joburg at 5pm and the Labia Theatre in Cape Town at 6pm.