Impressions of Kiev: The other side of the 36th Molodist

The Butterfly-Ultramarine Cinema Theatre complex

I want to draw attention in this page to the reality of a film festival, the bits that are missed out, the funny anecdotes or otherwise. Memories conveniently pick out the highlights, but we know it’s not always so. Where Kiev was ultimately a problem this year was the seeming lack of communication between an understaffed festival team and the guests and delegates. It may now be in its 36th year but it still appeared like a festival finding its feet. This can sometimes be endearing but incommunicado is not the password when an acknowledgement and friendly smile are good enough. Very few of the staff spoke good English and, being that this is now the international language, it’s always difficult when few speak it to an intermediate level. The messages or announcements were pasted in an inconspicuous place at short notice, which some undoubtedly would have not discovered until later that day if at all, causing inconvenience bordering on chaos.

One morning, the bus that carried everyone from the hotel boat to the cinema did not turn up, so everyone had to make their own way. Despite knowing and by association being responsible for this, they decided to start the screening without all the people that had been inconvenienced. It was this lacking in basic common sense which of course did not inspire confidence in the festival. However, one of the reasons for this problem is that, for the first year, the festival has moved to a multiplex arena known as The Butterfly-Ultramarine Cinema Theatre complex. It’s a big entertainment centre with many different forms of leisure. There are arcade games, ten-pin bowling alleys and loud music blazing right through it, creating an alienating impersonal effect.

However, it’s not all doom and gloom here, and these criticisms are not aimed at particular individuals, at least not those inside the festival itself. This year has witnessed the Molodist being shaken to its very foundations, and it’s practically like starting from the beginning again without the same spirit and freedom as before. This can only be the reason that General Director Andriy Khalpakhchi has loosened his ties with the festival that he has loved and stood by for so many years.

The much-loved festival Ship Hotel

I want to finish this particular piece in the appropriate good manner which the Molodist festival deserves without trying too much to pass comment on the internal politics as seen from a distance. The festival was responsible also for a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, and its participants were friendly and sociable, eager to talk about cinema and hopefully making the contacts for future festivals and projects. The festival’s hotel ship, sitting on the Dnieper river on the edge of town, will be fondly remembered by all who stayed there, networking or merely socialising in its hospitable bar that generally only shut down when its guests were ready to leave, never before 3am. Those same tired faces were up for breakfast between 8.30-9am ready to put some food in them before the coach left just after 9am, ready to take filmmakers, journalists and delegates to the cinema across town for another day. May the 36th Molodist in Kiev live long and fondly in the memory of the many young directors, students and critics from all over the world who attended, not just this year but also in previous years and in those many more to come.