GOCRITIC! Anifilm Liberec 2023
GoCritic! Interview: Ondřej Moravec • Director of VR film Darkening
“People realize that VR work Darkening is not a game and that depression is a real topic”
- Ondřej Moravec's animated autobiographical VR documentary Darkening is an intimate exploration of the impact of mental illness and the struggle to find solace and peace
Imagine this: Liebieg Villa, a huge, historicist, Renaissance Revival-style manor in Liberec, in the Czech Republic. It’s the last day of the 2023 Anifilm International Festival of Animated Films and I’m about to have my first VR experience. After listening to the technical instructions on how to operate the VR film Darkening, I’m still not sure what to expect. I was told to lose my bag and other unnecessary things. I held onto my notebook. Already, in the very first minutes of Ondřej Moravec's animated autobiographical VR documentary, the ground beneath my feet disappears. As Einstein fails me, I descend into Moravec’s forest. My rational mind understands that I’m sitting on a chair somewhere in the festival area, but the sensation of a loss of gravity urges me to grip onto the chair rather tightly and drop the notebook.
Darkening invites the viewer to follow creator Ondřej Moravec's voice into a pitch-black night – a representation of his private battle with the depression that he has had since his early teens. The experience is an intimate exploration of the impact of mental illness and the struggle to find solace and peace. Premiered in the 2022 Venice Film Festival (Immersive Competition), Darkening has had an impressive festival run, causing quite a stir at Ji.hlava IDFF, FIPADOC and Thessaloniki IDFF (Best Immersive Film Award), to name a few.
It’s not long before I’m in Moravec's world: in the forest, which was his asylum, but also a place where he harmed himself; in his childhood bedroom, where the walls are cracking due to family tensions; in the university library where fear of failure and disappointing others interferes with his ability to formulate a sentence and get the most out of his journalism studies. I can participate, interact. Scream, hum, move my hands. Help him to form a sentence.
Darkening guides the viewer along an emotional roller coaster. Suddenly, a ‘depression monster’, a mix between a tarantula and a Kraken, darkens the whole world. With its long tentacles and menacing hold, the demon attacks from above. But hopelessness can immediately turn into hope once we know how to calm a worried soul. Moravec has learned how to use his voice and to find a calm realm in the presence of animals.
GoCritic! sat down with Moravec at Anifilm in Liberec to discuss the origins of Darkening, as well as the emotional power this installation holds over him, and the conversation it provokes.
GoCritic!: Why did you choose VR as a medium for exploring the topic of depression?
Ondřej Moravec: First came the medium, then came the topic. I studied filmmaking at FAMU. Then I started working as a programmer for a variety of festivals, mostly for the One World Festival, whilst also curating VR programs for others. Evidently, when you’re going from place to place and seeing interesting things, you’re tempted to create your own work. I’d learned from my curational experience that I liked VR projects that focus on the inner workings of people’s minds. I’d seen a few interesting projects focusing on different topics relating to the mind, but, until now, I hadn’t seen anything on depression or mental health in general. I felt it was the right moment to start working on Darkening.
In the beginning, I didn’t have the ambition to tell it as my own story. I envisioned choosing various protagonists, conducting interviews with them, and carrying the project forwards in that general direction. But emotionally and as a filmmaker, it would have been difficult for me. Given the sensitivity of the topic, I would have felt scared about misrepresenting what’s going on in someone’s head. The safest way was for me to tell my story, which also allowed me to monitor what would be shared.
Is VR still perceived as a novelty? Are the general public unfamiliar with it?
It depends on the context. Lots of festivals had started making room for VR. But Covid halted this tendency. VR involves additional costs and festivals needed to optimise their budgets. The first thing they did was cancel some of their VR sections.
On the other hand, the industry was given a boost. During lockdown, more and more people bought headsets [to experience VR at home]. And now it’s back –festivals are promoting the format quite intensively. However, the pandemic has left its mark on budgets. Some festivals are still struggling, big festivals too. Sundance, for example, cancelled its New Frontier program. This year, Cannes was supposed to have a bigger VR selection, but the main investor pulled out. There are all sorts of complications in that respect but, in general, I think that VR has become more accessible to the public.
You’ve said before that voice synchronization and voice control activity were among the toughest technical challenges. What was tricky about them?
I thought that voice interactivity would be one of the most difficult things. At the end of the day, in terms of programming and technological development, it wasn’t really that hard. Other things were more problematic. For instance, due to specific time limitations, some long tones can be cancelled or interrupted by the device. Otherwise, it was a pretty smooth process.
It was harder to work with the audience’s willingness to use their voices as an interactive tool. Already, during the trials, a lot of people were reluctant to raise their voices. It wasn’t fun for them, but it was part of the experience.
Some distributors tried persuading us to only create the 360° version, or even a flat version of the experience. But, since the very beginning, I’ve believed it needs to be made as I envisioned it, because voice control is a crucial part of the experience. It’s a tool for softening bad feelings.
And audience participation differed, too. At the Venice Film Festival, they were more active and open. Italians aren’t scared to use their voices. In Switzerland [Geneva International Film Festival], total silence. In the Czech Republic, too, people were reluctant to express themselves.
Your voice-over has a soothing tone and a calming effect. How did you find the right narrational tone, rhythm and wording?
I had a co-director, Bára Anna Stejskalová, who’s more experienced in dubbing and other technical aspects. We were looking for a balance between a soft yet encouraging tone. I also had an advantage – I’ve worked as a TV journalist, therefore I do have some experience of using my voice as a tool.
You touched upon the fact that many people felt uncomfortable raising their voices while experiencing Darkening. How did you and your team strike the delicate balance between telling your story and eliciting intimate emotional responses from viewers?
It was an intuitive process rather than engineered. During the script-writing stage, my co-writer Alice Krajčírová and I agreed to encourage people to use their voices, but very gently. This first version turned out to be too subtle – viewers didn’t understand that they were supposed to use their voices. So we added more direct instructions.
Who are we in Darkening? Me! We’re in my shoes. But you’re also there for yourself. And you’re helping me. You have the freedom to “be” me or to act as a ghost who’s wandering around and listening to me. Consider the scene in the forest: in the mirror, you see my picture but when you move your hands, you know it's you. It's a semi-immersion or a semi-embodiment.
Was it therapeutic for you to revisit these places which stir up tricky memories for you – the forest, your childhood bedroom, the university library? How much freedom did you allow yourself when reconstructing them?
There were several approaches involved. Some of these places, my childhood room, for example, needed to be as realistic as possible. But the forest where some of the traumatic experiences happened was more improvised. I still don't remember precisely what the original forest from my childhood looked like. My trick was to depict my favourite forest as being close to my current flat. I knew that during production I would visit it often. I’m very fond of this forest. It’s not overly associated with a traumatic experience.
How did you and your team come to the final visualisation of the depression demon?
Together with the artist Bára Anna Stejskalová, we concluded that it should be a creature that’s somewhere between a spider, an octopus, and a Dementor from Harry Potter. And we wanted it to reveal itself progressively. In the beginning, you only see the tentacles appearing slowly from the ground. By the end of the story, the monster is revealed in its full terrifying shape.
You’ve said that you’re afraid of being seen as a softy, which was also your fear back then. Despite growing awareness around the subject, do you feel that there are still many blanks and miscomprehensions surrounding the topic of mental health?
It depends. I live in a safe, social bubble where people have the same understanding of life as me. It’s a safe space. But I’ve experienced screenings with people outside of my bubble. The interesting thing is that when they see me in person, they’re more open to listening and to finding a way to understand it. If they were to read about it on some social media post, they’d probably think something like: “ok, whatever, everybody is depressed nowadays”. But when you see the film and then the author, it makes a big impact. People realise that it’s not a game, and that depression is a real topic.
We worked in close cooperation with The National Institute of Mental Health in the Czech Republic. The experience shouldn’t be a harmful one. Darkening also reminds you that you’re not alone in this struggle. It can really help you to accept yourself, especially young people battling depression.
The Darkening team also collaborates with schools. Each screening includes a workshop and a moderated discussion with a therapist.
Yes, we work with psychology students who are well educated on the topic. Together with the youngsters, they talk about mental health and mental hygiene. I'm also part of the debate. The workshop lasts two hours, during which we discuss what they saw, how they perceived it and what aspects of it they relate to.
Did you have support systems like these when you were younger and battling depression?
No, I didn’t. That's probably why I'm doing it now. My journey might have been different if I’d had similar help – institutions or initiatives helping me to understand these feelings. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to experience such deep darkness.
It’s my way of preventing others from going through all this, and giving them the tools to cope with depression as early on as possible. Our distribution strategy focuses on young people and teenagers.
A year ago, you took part in a panel at the Riga International Short Film Festival, 2ANNAS Industry’s discussion on mental health among cinema professionals. Have you felt a paradigm shift around these topics? Obviously, we can’t speak for the global context, but in your world, for example?
It’s difficult to judge. It’s a slow process. I don’t think people are engaged enough yet to think about these topics and incorporate them into their daily lives. But I am seeing growing interest in Darkening. People care about these topics, and they want to see an improvement. It takes time, but the ball is rolling.
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