“In a green grove by the meadow
Glides young Dovbush like a shadow.
On one leg he falters slightly,
On his axe he now leans lightly.”
(folk song translations by Adrian Bryttan)
It used to be Ukrainian film directors stretched out their palms to Soviet bureaucracy, and consequently fashioned scripts to include “desirable” themes like class/social dialectics to fit the grand narrative of the “Heroic People’s Struggle.” Starting in the 1990s, director Oles Yanchuk broached a new era of previously taboo subject matters. He also tapped the diaspora to finance his series of patriotic films like “The Assassination” (“Atentat”), “The Unvanquished” (“Neskorennyj”) and “The Iron Brigade” (“Zalizna Sotnia”).
Now, Sergei Skobun, ambitious “businessman-producer-director” from Chernivtsi, has become the newest inspiration for any aspiring filmmaker – just raise enough money and voila: a self-produced, self-promoted indie movie, ready for the festival circuit and hopefully a future commercial success.
On April 18, Mr. Skobun’s adventure-film “Legends of Carpathians” about Oleksa Dovbush, the “Robin Hood of Ukraine, ” was screened at the Ukrainian Institute of America (UIA) in New York. Mr. Skobun spoke about the production, presented several of the actors and answered questions from viewers.
In conversation with this author, Mr. Skobun claimed his total budget was $180,000, “raised by the residents of Bukovyna region.” (For perspective, according to Hollywood Reporter, a lone make-up artist can typically expect to make upwards of $124,000 for one big-budget movie.) He also stated that production for “Legends” (his first film) lasted over two years and comprised mainly unpaid enthusiasts, many of whom learned their tasks for the first time.
Two questions arise: the historical accuracy of “Legends” and its artistic merits.
It is noteworthy that many highly praised and entertaining films actually have an abysmal record of fidelity to facts. Financed by the Indian government, the propaganda debacle “Gandhi” (1982) went on to win eight Academy Awards, including, astoundingly, for Best Screenplay. (Anyone curious about all the whitewashing and omissions perpetrated to sanctify Gandhi can easily find on the Internet Richard Grenier’s “The Gandhi Nobody Knows.”) Similar sweeping historical distortions can be seen in the “Charge of the Light Brigade,” and in the lies in Orson Welles’ “Citizen Kane” and in the contrivances in “Amadeus.”
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A Polish convoy in a scene from “Legends of Carpathians.”
For centuries portrayed in folklore as the “Robin Hood of Ukraine,” Oleksa Dovbush was, in fact, a real person. In the mid-18th century, there surfaced “black book” city court records from Stanislaviv (today’s Ivano-Frankivsk) in the 1700s, presenting detailed testimony establishing the actual life, activities and death of this “folk hero.”
The lands of Halychyna and Zakarpattia presented headaches for governments in charge, whether Hungary, Lithuania, Poland, Transylvania, or Austria. As these territories changed hands, the cruel conditions of serfdom intensified, leading to widespread suffering. Historian Vasyl Veryha states that in the 18th century, “Austria found Halychyna in ruins, with no schools, roads, big cities, businesses or trade, and with an impoverished rural peasantry, completely enslaved by Polish feudal lords.”
Oleksa Dovbush (1700-1745) was the most renowned of the “opryshky” – partisans who fought back against systemic injustices. These bands of outlaws hid in the elevations and deep forests of the Carpathians, often crossing the borders of Romania and Hungary. Their members came from various nationalities, including the renowned Romanian Hryhir Pyntia. (In 1837 an Austrian warrant was issued for the following opryshky: Moishe Reisner, Srul Shor, Hersh Mendon and Berl Levy.)
At the same time, we are blessed with a wealth of folklore – tales of young Oleksa’s feats of strength approaching the myths of Paul Bunyan. Most renowned is the colorful ballad “In a Green Grove,” where the last days of the outlaw are fairly accurately chronicled: Dovbush arrives in the town of Kosmach for a rendezvous with Dzvinka, the wife of Shtefan. Dzvinka replies Shtefan is away at work, but does not unbolt the door. Dovbush breaks it down and is shot by Shtefan. With his dying breath, he asks his fellow opryshky to lift him on their axes and bear him to his beloved highlands.
“Bear me to my mountain home,
So I’ll die where I was born,
Where my mother, father lie
In the highlands ’neath the sky.”
A traditional representation of Dovbush.
In reality, the following morning his bleeding body was discovered in the bushes, and a priest was sent for. The Polish authorities sectioned his body into 12 pieces, impaled and mounted them throughout the countryside as a gruesome warning.
Having based his screenplay on folklore, Mr. Skobun aptly titled his film “Legends.” It was not intended to be a historical documentary. The aim was to “show everyone the glories of the Carpathians and the beauties of our traditions,” according to Mr. Skobun. It is admittedly a light-genre adventure film. (And in a world where Ukrainian news stands still offer a glut of Russian sci-fi, detective and thriller books, what’s wrong with that?)
In the most affecting episodes in “Legends,” the young Dovbush is an abnormally shy boy, teased by other children because he never speaks. When his uncle takes him up the mountain at night to consult with a magician, the verdict that “he is not an ordinary child” introduces the folkloric prophecy. Soon afterwards, he kills a wild boar that attacked his uncle. Throughout the film, more omens, dreams and apparitions surface at key moments. The turning point occurs when Dovbush sees his mother murdered by the overlords and begins his life as an avenger.
These early scenes of the young Oleksa are most memorable and sustain the viewer’s interest in this mysterious boy. Costumes (some original Hutsul apparel more than 200 years old) and interior shots are convincing, as are local details like the gossiping women in church and the legendary trials undergone by new recruits.
“Legends” was filmed on location in the Carpathians, featuring the “Splintered Cliffs” (“Protiati Kaminnia”) where the opryshky hid. While there are several admirable landscapes and camera angles (the director related to this author how they dislodged a colony of bats when the camera helicopter descended into a ravine), much of the film is saddled with flat, uninteresting cinematography. And several shots are repeated, like the recurring slow pan over the Dnister River towards Khotyn Castle, the Polish stronghold. The musical score is generally supportive, except for the jarring heavy rock under the opening credits.
The film ultimately bogs down with the Polish scenes and the larger set pieces and battle sequences, which come across as pat and predictable. The latter part of the film exposes its weak characterization and lack of dramatic tension.. And not to give anything away, the sweetened “patriotic” ending has the effect of being tacked on.
Denis Andreev
Director Sergei Skobun (left) shows the authentic Hutsul costumes used in “Legends of Carpathians.”
There were three previous efforts to make a movie about the opryshky. The earliest film, “Oleksa Dovbush,” was lost when the Kyiv crew in the Carpathian Mountains ran into advance Wehrmacht units in 1941. The second “Oleksa Dovbush” was directed by Viktor Ivanov in 1969 and is available on YouTube. Perhaps it is this version which is the strongest artistically, and which strikes a comfortable balance between a romantic and realistic approach. Beautifully framed and filmed, this Dovbush is a Soviet-style decisive hero, square jawed, courageous and merciful, yet someone who connects with the audience.
The third film, “Soul of Stone” (“Kaminna Dusha”) filmed in 1989 by director Stanislav Klymenko, is a gritty but ultimately depressing “verismo” movie (based on another Hnat Khotkevych tale) of opryshky leader Dmytro Marusiak, an enigmatic, cruel and self-destructive anti-hero. It is also found on YouTube. (Additionally, director Oles Sanin’s film about Dovbush is now in production.)
In the 1969 film, Dovbush, although wounded, walks off into the setting sun with his paramour. In 1989, the last clip shows the disheveled opryshok Marusiak commiting suicide before the advancing Polish troops. The 2017 “Legends” has an upbeat ending for Dovbush with voice-over narration about the whole nation being ultimately victorious. Take your pick.
Stanislav Liudkevych devoted many years to composing his massive (never staged) opera “Dovbush.” In 1956, he defended his libretto before the Third Congress of the Union of Soviet Composers of Ukraine: “Throughout our history, heroes had flaws, but that does not diminish them. The aspirations of Dovbush were doomed to failure by historical circumstances… In reality, Dovbush was not the organizer of some national uprising. He was merely a partisan, exalted by the people as their romantic avenger. This means the basis for my depiction of Dovbush must be his halo from folk legend.”
The deepest meaning of Oleksa Dovbush lies in what he signifies to Ukrainians. The many tales and ballads preserve our people’s wisdom and artistry, filtered and crystallized over decades of retellings. Folklore does not shy away from heroic flaws and is often surprisingly accurate. This is what Liudkevych meant by “his halo from folk legend.”