‘2000 Meters to Andriivka’: “The Only Way To Cover a War Is From Up Close”
Written by Riley Heath. Photography by Riley Heath.
The first footage shown in the documentary “2000 Meters to Andriivka” is what Oscar-winning director Mstyslav Chernov calls “precious”; a soldier took his body camera off, flipping it around to capture himself. He was sitting at the bottom of a Ukrainian platoon trench, taking composed drags of a cigarette while shots fired overhead. The soldier jolted suddenly when an explosion detonated dangerously close by, and as chunks of the trench walls rained down on him, his limbs began shaking wildly and uncontrollably. His eyes winced shut as his back defensively braced against the dug-out wall. I felt such devastation watching the hurt and fear paint his face, the way his movements were so swift, so routine — accustomed to anticipating a fatal hit every moment, every step, every breath.
“This is a story of men fighting for their land,” a voice-over said, booming through the vaulted Trustees Theater speakers. Clips of the charred, sparse, and flimsy forest they fought in took to the screen. I was familiar with this war coming into the film’s showing, but actually seeing it was another experience entirely. “It’s like living on another planet where everything is trying to kill you, but it’s not another planet. It’s in the middle of Europe,” the narrator said. “It’s a nightmare we can’t wake up from.”
This documentary is a first-hand account of the 2023 Ukrainian attempt to reclaim the strategic village of Andriivka, and captures the grueling fight to survive on the front-lines against the Russian counteroffensive. “The forest was just slightly wider than this theater here,” Chernov said later in the post-screening Q&A in reference to the battlefield. He gestured to the two flanking, longer and closer Trustees Theater walls, the emotion flooding his face as he reflected on his own experience in the war. Several members of the audience gasped, and others expressed their astonishment in appalled “wows” and “oh my Gods.” Most of us sat as I did then — in speechless, horrified anguish.
For 2000 meters, the Ukrainians pushed towards Andriivka in a strip of forest not much wider than a four-lane road, surrounded by two deadly, flat minefields. The land was bare, provided no real coverage and was littered with holes where Russian teams waited to ambush the Ukrainian troops. Despite the odds, these men pressed onward, perilously marching over ruins and graves.
Over clips of the remarkable, mud-scuffed and beaten young soldiers who volunteered, news reporters’ voices were laid over the drone and body camera footage. “It’s virtually impossible to reach the front lines and assess their success,” they stated, claiming that there was “no path to military victory [there]” as far as they could tell. Mstyslav Chernov bridged that disconnect and did what many others couldn’t, showing the hope buried in devastation, a story in need of acknowledgement, and the names of the men who deserve recognition for the seriousness of their sacrifice. He captured what the world failed to see, what they couldn’t see and what they so easily tend to detach from.
“My work has the ability to make safe-haven of the truth, to make sure the story remains intact,” Chernov shared. “I wanted to grant the audience the same experience we had ourselves so we could go through it together — so they could experience all the emotions we did.” Through trench interviews, terrifying combat scenes and shocking transparency, strangers became friends that we were able to root for, feel for, and cry for as they fought or died for their home and their people.
“I needed to be there with them on that battlefield … so close to that pain, that loss,” Chernov said when prompted to talk about his approach to a film of this nature. “I’m appalled by this war — I’m disgusted. But you can’t cover a war from a distance. The only way to cover a war is from up close.” In this documentary, he brought us there, too. Allowing us to witness the unthinkable devastation and tragedy of the front-lines, “2000 Meters to Andriivka” doesn’t let us stay in the dark and cower from fear, but rather forces us to confront this nightmare and grapple with the paradoxes of war first-hand. “It feels more and more important to be talking about this war,” Chernov said, putting a hand on his heart and bowing his head to the audience as he spoke. “Thank you for coming and seeing this through.”
