Russian-born director and artist Ilya Khrzhanovsky will receive the honorary Heart of Sarajevo and is the focus of a curated retrospective of his films at the 31st Sarajevo Film Festival . But during a Sarajevo masterclass on Wednesday, he gave some insights into his wild world of creativity, from failing to make it to the Venice Film Festival with his debut film and Russia banning him for his expansive and controversial Dau Project, all the way to ordering 70 tons of cabbage heads for his set and casting criminals as judges.
Born in Russia, Khrzhanovsky graduated from the Russian State Institute of Cinematography (VGIK). He spoke out against Russia's invasion of Ukraine. Last year, the Russian Ministry of Justice added him to its list of foreign agents, and he renounced his Russian citizenship.
Your debut feature, 4, won the Tiger Award at the International Film Festival in 2005, after losing at the Venice Film Festival the year before. Your films Dau. Natasha and Dau. Degeneration aired at the Berlin Film Festival in 2020. The former won a Silver Bear for Outstanding Artistic Contribution to Cinematography that year.
Your First Resource 4 debuted in 2004 at Venice, but it wasn't the moment the director had hoped for. "In Venice, when I showed the film, it was a real disappointment. Most of the audience walked out," Khrzhanovsky recalled on Wednesday. "It was a kind of shock, because I was sure I'd done something unique, great, and now everyone would celebrate. I think 70% of the audience walked out, at least. I think there should have been three screenings and one canceled."
After his return to Russia, "this film was immediately banned," the director continued. "And then the Minister of Culture told me what I should cut—it was 40 minutes. And I said, 'No, I won't cut it.'" He recalled feeling at the time that 4 was an "absolute failure."
But then the Rotterdam Film Festival selectors saw the film and decided to show it in competition. "And then everything went against Venice in Rotterdam," Khrzhanovsky emphasized. "It was a real success. All the exhibitions were sold out. There were additional exhibitions... so I started receiving awards. It was a good lesson that the success of the festival and everything is very relative."
For the past 15 years, creativity has focused on its expansive Dau Originally conceived as a noble Soviet physicist, Lev Landau, nicknamed Dau, before evolving into a vast experience of immersive artworks, including a digital platform, and the first film released in 2019.
In 2009, after building a large recreation of a secret-era Science Institute in a former sports arena in the Ukrainian city of Kharkov, Khrzhanovsky and his team decided to recruit non-professional actors to live and work on set, some of whom actually remitted for three years. With traveling cameras capable of recording every conversation, the experience was likened to a "Soviet Truman Show." It led some experts to complain of mistreatment on set, including graphic violence and accusations of an oppressive environment for women. Khrzhanovsky denied the allegations.
Khrzhanovsky illustrated his ambition for the project and his goal of "creating the feeling of another kind of reality" with some surprising anecdotes on Wednesday. For example, he became a casting boss when he naturally shared, "I pitched 352,000 people." Furthermore, for one scene, he recalled, "We brought in 70 tons of cabbage and poured some concrete on them."
But they're not superlatives for creativity. “In Soviet courts, in fact, in Russian courts, as we can see, all decisions were made before the court proceedings began,” Khrzhanovsky said. “So, I decided to invite people who know a lot about the court—the criminals—to play the judges” in the immersive Dau experience. He then showed some photos, explaining: “They're criminals. This guy, for example, his nickname is a butcher. For three hours of footage, all the dialogue was improvised, except we knew what the outcomes should be, what kind of decision they would make.”
Describing the size of the immersive experience, Khrzhanovsky mentioned a 13,000-square-meter area, "probably the largest set in Europe," explaining, "For almost three years, people lived and worked there. If you decided to go there, you'd probably keep your name and profession, but your biography would go back 50 or 60 years."
For example, there was a cleaning lady. “She just cleaned the apartment. Of course, she wasn’t carrying contemporary chemicals, but old chemicals,” the artist said. “And she earned her salary in Soviet rubles because we wanted to have all the elements of real life. And if you wanted a better salary or some potential, you could also become a member of the Communist Party. So, people made choices within this space.”
