When one conjures up an image of war, it typically conjures scenes of bloodshed, bravery, and the raw essence of combat. However, not everyone participates in wars, even those as monumental as the ongoing struggle between Russia and Ukraine. There are clearly defined battlefronts, war zones, buffer areas, and evacuated metropolises. Beyond these theaters of conflict, life persists: the elderly remain indoors, adults venture to their workplaces, and children continue their education. This latter group forms the crux of Kateryna Gornostai's potent new documentary, Timestamp (Strichka Chasu), which meticulously chronicles the functioning of Ukraine's educational system amidst a full-scale military onslaught.
The film delves into school life at all levels, from kindergarten to high school seniors, underscoring the resilience of students who steadfastly continue their studies amidst their nation's defense efforts, and teachers who strive to make the best of an otherwise catastrophic situation. Gornostai's approach diverges from the conventional documentary format of narrative interviews or archived news footage, instead echoing the observational style of Frederick Wiseman and other documentary filmmakers who prioritize showing over telling.
As on-screen titles enumerate the names of cities and their proximity to the front lines, Timestamp immerses viewers in diverse settings, observing children of various ages engaging in typical school activities: studying, playing, learning, lounging, and occasionally succumbing to boredom. Yet, in a country gearing up for battle, nothing can be deemed normal, and Gornostai uncovers the myriad ways Ukrainians have adapted since Russia's invasion in February 2022.
Classes nearer to the combat zones transition to Zoom sessions, while those farther away attempt to carry on as usual, albeit frequently interrupted by air raid sirens sending everyone underground. In one poignant sequence, an art teacher converts a basement into a vibrant studio for students eager to learn painting and drawing. Elsewhere, an entire subway platform has been transformed into a makeshift classroom, complete with blackboards, desks, and educational materials.
As the war drags on, the children seem relatively unperturbed, though occasional glimpses reveal a traumatized soul. In a haunting scene, a little girl enters her school library for a reading session but breaks down upon seeing a photograph of her deceased father alongside portraits of other fallen soldiers. Within minutes, however, she regains composure, selects a book, and resumes her studies. Timestamp unravels numerous insights over its enthralling two-hour runtime, one of which is the short-lived nature of children's memories, even those who have endured unspeakable horrors, which propels them forward.
Teenagers, meanwhile, are growing up in a war-torn nation where they may soon be drafted. High school students learn to fire rifles and apply tourniquets — the film's title alludes to a timestamp indicating how long human tissue has been deprived of blood — and many envision a future where they will take up arms. However, they also strive to maintain a semblance of normalcy, creating TikTok videos with friends or rehearsing dance routines for a graduation ceremony that concludes the film.
Gornostai and cameraman Oleksandr Roshchyn capture these poignant moments in gracefully composed widescreen shots, brimming with youthful figures, be it preschoolers rushing to a bomb shelter or adolescents shooting hoops in a gym partially destroyed by a missile strike. Alexey Shmurak's orchestral and choral score imbues these images with an epic quality, as if witnessing the rebirth of a nation, arising like a phoenix from the ashes.
Indeed, Timestamp harbors an undeniable nationalistic undertone, evident in scenes of students singing patriotic hymns, observing moments of silence in homage to the fallen, and teachers imparting lessons about Ukrainian bravery in resisting Russian invaders. (One can only ponder the curriculum in schools on the opposing side.) Whether one embraces or rejects such patriotism, it remains another facet of a prolonged and devastating conflict that has profoundly altered countless lives, if not shattered them entirely. However, Gornostai's captivating portrait ultimately offers a promise: of children's enduring spirit despite dire circumstances, and a future where they will no longer have to endure such hardships.
