Fascinating meta-document about the invasion of Ukraine

The continuous and incredible cacophony of the sounds of war — shelling, air raids, explosions — seemed to drown out the voices of those who were attacked by Russia in Ukraine. However, while Ukrainian citizens learn to coexist with the destruction that haunts their daily comings and goings, the resilience of the country’s artists could not be more thunderous. With the succinct, but unusually compelling Two Wall Rule, Ukrainian-American filmmaker David Gutnik has assembled a collection of portraits that highlight the experiences of artists from across the country who have taken refuge in the city of Lviv, including some of the people behind the documentary.

Filmed in early 2022, just months after the invasion, Two Walls Rule is a casual reflection on how the ongoing occupation has upended the personal and professional edges of some of Ukraine’s most creative minds. These voices include Liana Mytsko, director of the Lviv Municipal Art Center, where artists can develop and exhibit their work, and rapper Stepan Burban (aka Palindrome), whose lyrics, distinctly Ukrainian after first trying to make it Russian, speak of a desire to cut short through violence . There is also the film’s sound recordist Mykhailo Zakutsky, and even producer Olga Beshmelnytsyna. The latter explains her decision to stay in the country: not only to take care of her parents, but also to contribute to film documentation of the events.

But to use extremely ordinary interviews with a “talking head” in an article about the complex business of art in the midst of chaos would be too aesthetically inert to match the determined energy emanating from the subjects. Instead, Gutnick opts for a powerful soundtrack, elaborate camera movements and shots that give fluidity to each segment, consisting of images that demonstrate a process or contemplate each person in their daily activities. Although The Two Wall Rule is divided into three sections, they are dictated not by the people sharing their memories, but by the way Gutnick groups his introspective thoughts, meaning multiple voices appear in each section.

Be aware, however, of the extremely graphic nature of the footage these personal essays insert. People burned in the fire, decapitated corpses and swollen bodies in various stages of decomposition are almost impossible not to look away. Their inclusion, a deliberate shock to the system, prompts the viewer to recall the horrific context in which these creative endeavors take place. When cinematographer Volodymyr Ivanov talks about how desensitized he is to the horrors and insomnia that plagues him, his solemn testimony extinguishes the documentary with his almost combustible rage and grief.

For these artists, the “rule of two walls”—meaning seeking shelter in a corridor when there is no other shelter during a bombardment—symbolizes their contradictory interstitial position as they try to express their feelings in the face of the suffering that surrounds them. They are both victims and heroes who persevered through the fog of war. And yet, in the face of such a reality, creating music, painting and shooting a film can seem trivial. In turn, the existence and popularity of such documents as “The Rule of Two Walls” and many others about this conflict also demonstrate the openness with which Western viewers can empathize with the Ukrainian situation, since powerful countries have unequivocally condemned their victims. The same cannot be said for the way the current humanitarian crisis in Palestine has been handled, and the West certainly shares the blame.

At the end of the picture, Gutnik powerfully inserts himself into the film, telling in English about the tragedy that no one in his family speaks Ukrainian, although all his closest relatives were born there. In Soviet times, Russian was required for employment, an assimilation tactic that likely eradicated individuality among the republics.

This unattainable homogeneity is part of the rhetoric of Putin, who claims that there is no discernible Ukrainian culture. One look at the maelstrom of memories and expressions depicted in The Two Wall Rule renders such a preposterous proclamation inconsequential.

Perhaps what crystallizes the doctor’s position about the urgent need for art even in the darkest circumstances is the image of the theater in Mariupol before its destruction. Although the building itself no longer exists in a usable form, its image from the past, which now seems distant, can still inspire hope. It is a tangible symbol of their collective imagination worth fighting for. The “two-war rule” serves a similar purpose.