Venice, Italy — “All this must be filmed,” said director Anastasia Trofimova as she began her journey to create the documentary Russians at War. Presented in the “Out of Competition” category at the 81st Venice Film Festival, the documentary provides an intimate portrayal of Russian soldiers fighting in Ukraine.
Trofimova, a Canadian-educated filmmaker, previously worked with RT (formerly Russia Today) and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s French service in Moscow. Now, she has taken on a daring project that embeds her within a Russian battalion at the front lines of the ongoing conflict in eastern Ukraine.
Trofimova’s decision to make this film came after a chance encounter with Ilya, a Ukrainian citizen who had moved to Moscow with his family. When they first met, Ilya was performing as Grandfather Frost, a character akin to Santa Claus, during New Year’s Eve celebrations in 2022.
It was only later that Trofimova discovered that Ilya was also a soldier fighting on the side of Russia in the war. Their connection deepened when Ilya called her from the front lines. Knowing she wanted to create a documentary about the war, she pleaded with him to allow her to join his battalion.
Eventually, Trofimova went to the front lines without any official authorization or press accreditation, embedding herself with a Russian battalion in eastern Ukraine.
Russians at War offers a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the lives of Russian soldiers. The documentary takes the audience from positions 180 kilometers behind the front lines, where fresh troops are brought in, to the treacherous trenches at the front where men face death daily.
The soldiers depicted in the film are often volunteers, and their reasons for joining the fight vary. Some express vague sentiments of patriotism, while others seek to avenge fallen comrades or protect loved ones.
Some join the fight to prevent their children from having to go to war in the future. However, the most common motivation appears to be financial, with many soldiers admitting that they were drawn to the front by the promise of money.
Yet, the promise of financial compensation often proves elusive. Soldiers interviewed in the documentary reveal that they sometimes find themselves stuck at the front lines without contracts, status, or pay.
In one particularly poignant scene, a soldier recounts how his contract expired months ago, yet he was ordered to remain at the front without payment and without compensation for his injuries.
Trofimova’s time with the soldiers allowed her to gain their trust. They viewed her as someone who could “tell the truth” about their experiences, which they felt had been distorted by both Russian and Western propaganda.
While Russians at War offers an intimate portrayal of the soldiers’ lives, the film shows only brief glimpses of combat. There is little focus on the destruction or atrocities committed by Russian forces in Ukraine, and one soldier even dismisses accusations of war crimes as “impossible.”
The absence of such coverage has sparked significant controversy. During the Venice Film Festival, Trofimova faced tough questions from the audience regarding her decision not to address war crimes in the film.
Human rights organizations like Amnesty International and the United Nations Human Rights Office have reported widespread war crimes and violations committed by Russian forces during the conflict.
Despite this, Trofimova maintains that she saw no signs of war crimes during her time near the front lines. “I think in Western media, that’s what Russian soldiers are associated with at this point, because there were no other stories,” she said, defending her choice of narrative focus.
The film’s portrayal of the Russian soldiers reveals an underlying theme of disillusionment. Many of the soldiers depicted in the film seem bewildered by the war.
They express a shared sense of confusion and helplessness as they try to make sense of the chaos around them. One soldier wonders aloud how future generations will judge their actions, but quickly admits that he has no answers.
“Starting a war is easy, but ending it…” he trails off, highlighting the grim reality that the only way many soldiers expect to return home is “feet first” — either lying on a stretcher or in a coffin.
The film’s second half delves into the harsh realities of war with the use of military codes. “Code 300” refers to wounded soldiers, while “Code 200” refers to those who have died.
As the soldiers grapple with the increasing number of casualties, the codes become central to the film’s narrative. “There was an order. We went in,” another soldier bluntly states, reflecting the obedience and fatalism that permeates the ranks.
The controversy surrounding Russians at War extended beyond Venice. At the festival, the producers faced strong criticism from the audience for their decision to support the film’s production.
Philippe Levasseur of Capa Presse, one of the producers, responded by mentioning that another documentary he produced, titled Viktor, would soon be shown alongside Russians at War at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF).
Viktor tells the story of a deaf photographer embedded with the Ukrainian army, offering a contrasting perspective on the war.
Another producer, Cornelia Principe, acknowledged that while Russians at War does not discuss war crimes, that doesn’t mean they are not happening. She emphasized that the film’s focus is on the soldiers’ experiences rather than the broader implications of the conflict.
Trofimova herself remains unapologetic about her choices as a filmmaker. “In Russia, they are these heroes who never die. In the West, they are mostly war criminals,” she said. “To me, the biggest shock was to see how ordinary they were.”
This ordinariness, she argues, is what makes their stories worth telling. Trofimova’s goal was not to create a political statement or to condone or condemn the actions of the soldiers. Instead, she sought to humanize them, to show that beneath the uniforms and the weapons, they are individuals caught in the machinery of war.
The documentary raises important questions about the role of filmmakers in times of conflict.
Should a documentary about soldiers in a war zone address the broader context of the war, including potential war crimes, or should it focus solely on the personal experiences of the soldiers? Trofimova’s choice to prioritize the latter has opened a debate about the responsibilities of storytellers in wartime.
Russians at War will continue to spark conversations as it makes its way to other film festivals and screenings around the world. In Venice, the film has already ignited a firestorm of opinions.
Some viewers praise Trofimova for her courage and for providing a unique perspective on a war that has often been depicted in black-and-white terms. Others criticize the film for what they perceive as a failure to fully confront the brutal realities of the conflict.
As the war in Ukraine rages on, documentaries like Russians at War serve as a reminder that the truth of war is often complex and multifaceted. Trofimova’s film captures the uncertainty, fear, and disillusionment of the soldiers on the front lines — but it also leaves many questions unanswered.
For some, this ambiguity is a reflection of the chaos of war. For others, it is an uncomfortable evasion of the more difficult truths that must be faced.
One thing is certain: Russians at War is not a film that can be easily dismissed or forgotten. It challenges viewers to look beyond the headlines and to consider the human faces behind the conflict. And in doing so, it forces us to confront the uncomfortable reality that, in war, there are no simple answers.