Marina Razbezhkina was born on July 17, 1948 in Kazan. In 1971 she graduated from the philology faculty of the local state university. She has worked as a village teacher and as a journalist at several mass media.
In 1986 Razbezhkina started writing scripts for documentary films at Kazan Film Studio of Cinema Chronicle, and in 1989 she started to work as a documentary film director. In 2003 she shot her first fiction picture, Harvest Time. Razbezhkina authors nearly 30 documentaries. She has taken part in and is an award winner of many film festivals.
In 2008 together with art director of Teatr.doc Mikhail Ugarov Razbezhkina started teaching “Directing documentary films and plays” at the art studio, Higher School of Economics. Since 2009 she has been holding gradually a competition of documentary works, “Hunting Reality.” The winners get the right for free studying at her studio.
In March 2014 she signed a group letter “We are with you!” to support Ukraine.
We met in Odesa during the festival, where Razbezhkina was heading the jury of the competition of European documentaries.
“IF YOU’RE A DOCUMENTARY FILM DIRECTOR, YOU OFFER FOR LIFE TO OPEN BEFORE YOU”
I will start with a provocative question. Does documentary cinema really exist?
“I have no answer to this question. Some people think that everyone is pretending everywhere. But as for me documentary cinema does exist. I have shot both fiction and documentary films. And I can see a strict line between them. When you are shooting a dramatic film, you’re the god, the life of the character belongs to you, and it is you who decides upon his destiny. If you are a documentary film director, you only offer for life to open before you. You are just a very attentive observer. So, it is for an observer to develop the abilities for perceiving various verbal and non-verbal languages. And it is for a fiction film director to be the god. I don’t like the position of a god, therefore I prefer documentary films.”
What about mixing documentary and fiction genres of cinema? Many people are attempting to shoot such films today.
“My attitude to such experiments is not very positive.”
Why?
“Artists do not achieve the subtlety which they could have achieved, if they worked solely on fiction cinema, or a documentary film. But one film has shattered my beliefs, Stories We Tell by Canadian writer and director Sarah Polley. This film allows documentary film directors to ponder not only on how cinema should be made, but also on what reality is like. Polley broaches this question in a very rigid way. Her personal story is like this. Her mother was a famous actress. Sara is the youngest child in her family. When she was 10, her mother died. Later her older brothers and sisters told her that she must not be the daughter of the man whom she considered her father. The film shows a lot of nice 8mm chronicle which the director continues to rewind, observing the men near her mother – some of them must be her father. She chooses the three ones who bear some resemblance with her. She goes to meet every one of them. And then suddenly the people from the chronicle appear at one table – both her late mother and her possible lovers. And we understand that we were watching not a chronicle, but a reconstruction. Sara Polley did this in such a brilliant way that no documentary director guessed that this is fiction – and we watching attentively, to notice actors who are playing as real people. In such a way, she raised the question: what is reality in fact? Maybe it is what we believe? In this case everything mass media broadcast, everything we see on TV, even, conditionally speaking, ‘crucified boy’ are a reality as well, because a huge audience believe this. This question of being objective or not is very fundamental, because today we all are involved in depicting of life. We already sympathize not with real life, but rather with its copies – these copies evoke our emotions, not our reality.”
“WE CHANGE THE OPTICS OF THE STUDENT’S VIEW”
What role does a script play in a documentary film?
“For some reason, everyone is concerned about this, except for documentary film makers. I don’t understand the reason of concern. A script is not necessary for documentary films. I offer for the students, after meeting the hero, write a script of the film which has already been shot. You can imagine several characters whom you plan to observe for five years. For example, you have a feeling that uncle Vasia will die in the end. So write this script. Then hide it well before go to shoot, because it will be a hindrance for you when you will be shooting. You will be trying to push uncle Vasia under the tram or be guiding his life. And when you return from the shooting, write a different script, about real Vasia, how you saw him. Compare these two versions: have they coincided at least at one-third of the film? How well did you understand the hero at the beginning?”
Why do you need this first hypothetical script?
“To feel the foundation. You know for sure that some or other moments you are going to shoot or not, because you already have a vision of the film. But let’s assume nothing happened. So you as a perceptible person start to change your story. The director needs this flexibility – there is nothing worse than a documentary film director who invented something and starts to guide his character harshly. For the hero is a plastic creature, you can do anything with him.”
There is another direction which shows many interesting works, editing documentary films, based on archives. Apparently, this approach is not close to you.
“We shoot what is going on before our eyes. If something crucial happened to the hero 20 years ago, try to tell this not with the help of archives, but with the help of what is going on now. Show how these years are echoing today.”
Today it’s a turbulent time. It is full of bright heroes and impressive conflicts. There are numerous ready-made stories. How in this situation can a documentary film director avoid the temptation of becoming a publicist? Today even journalist investigations are called full-fledged cinema.
“The first task in our school is as follows: we change the optics of the student’s view. If the student doesn’t change and remains captivated by journalism or some political ideas, we have to say good bye to him. We must teach the director to observe real life. I have an example: two people are shooting an old beggar on a camera. A young man is passing by and throws a kopek to the woman. The first cameraman immediately rushes to the studio and sells a video for two programs: one about how terrible the state is taking care of elderly people, and the other one about the wonderful youth which has grown up in our country, in spite of all difficulties.
“The second one, our guy, is touched by this young man for some reason. He can say directly why. So he takes his camera and follows him to the shop. The young man buys an axe, hides it to his backpack, goes by stares to the attic where the old beggar lives and kills her. We know that this is Crime and Punishment. In this sense our cinema is close to good fiction – when by the scale and first reaction we can see the depth of human existence. The woman is not poor in fact, and the young man is not a benefactor. But even this is only the upper layer. I ask the students to reach the end, all skeletons in the closet. Then you won’t be affected by various social tricks that very often make life look plain and talentless.”
“WHEN YOU LACK ENERGY IN LIFE, YOU LACK IT IN ART”
We are speaking about a social aspect. But for example there is Ukrainian documentary cinema, which got a second breath after receiving namely social impulses: Maidan, the war.
“Life needs energy. Energy may be not so terrible. It may not be imposing sunny and bright illusions. The energy is given by war, grief, ruining elements, and this energy give birth to a totally different kind of art. Maidan allowed us to see reality differently, most importantly, to see better yourself and your neighbor. Before the Maidan events you didn’t know what you thought about this. Who could imagine that such thing would happen to Ukraine? You could not imagine yourself in this terrible role. And suddenly life gives it to you. It doesn’t matter whether this is a good gift or not. It allows you to understand yourself as a part of history, a part of this incredible game. I have seen practically all films about Maidan that have been presented at festivals – at Artdokfest there was a separate program – and usually this is high quality cinema. But it doesn’t mean that the authors managed to interpret the events – conditionally speaking, the one who is getting burned in a tank is unable to interpret the events – but you record them, and this is a very important material, which shows another function of documentary cinema – you give an opportunity to the descendants to peep into the past and understand something about us.”
Where do Russian documentary directors take their energy? Your current situation is compared even to Soviet stagnation.
“We have an impulse of our own, because the society is divided, in terms of their attitude to Ukraine and to the Russian power. These are very powerful processes. I think the television in your country and in our country is broadcasting everything in such distorted way that you cannot imagine in what ‘pocket’ we are living in Russia, how many prisoners are in jail not for stealing millions, but for the participation in peaceful demonstrations. No, we are in a ‘pocket,’ and it’s quite terrible.”
MY HOBBY IS SILENCE
Finally, I would like to learn whether you have other passions except for cinema?
“Sometimes I like to keep silent for several weeks (chuckling). Conversations are extremely exhausting.”
