For her new project and first feature film, Ashes Settling in Layers on the Surface, the winner of the Eurimages Co-Production Development Award at Visions du Réel (see the news), Zoya Laktionova, decided to dive into her memories - not only those of her family, but also those of a country that, against its will, is mutating and changing morphology. Starting from her mother's diary, Zoya tells us the story of an entire country fighting for its right to exist. Cineuropa spoke to her about her vision of cinema, which is at once evocative, poetic and militant.

Cineuropa: Could you briefly describe your project? What are the differences and similarities between this and your previous films?
Zoya Laktionova: It’s hard to describe this film briefly. I believe that once it’s finished, every viewer will see something different in it, just like with my previous short films. I always leave space for interpretation, and those interpretations vary as much as our personal life experiences do. For me, this film is about three generations of my family, including myself. It’s about the city where I was born, and about the country as a whole. If I had to sum it up in one word, I’d say it’s about love - love for all of the above. There’s also a specific timeframe I’m working with: the period between two destructions of Mariupol - between World War II and the current Russian-Ukrainian war. The city will never be the same again; it’s been 90% destroyed by Russia. So I want to preserve it on screen the way I and the two generations before me remember it.

What did you learn from the Visions du Réel pitching event and other creative workshops? 
The only workshop I was able to attend was the pitch preparation session. On the creative side, one of the most meaningful experiences happened outside the official workshops, during the Columbia University art residency in Paris. I had the rare opportunity to speak several times with Frederick Wiseman about my project. Those conversations changed the way I saw the material I had. He was particularly interested in my mother’s diaries. She spent her life working as a construction crane operator. Wiseman said he’d never read diaries from someone from the working class and was genuinely curious about them. That moment shifted something in me. I realised I had access to a world rarely seen on screen - not through research, but through lived experience. 

How do you plan to shoot your film? Are you going to rely on your personal story, on the relationship you have with your country?
The story of this film began in 2020, shortly after my mother passed away. While going through her things, I found her diary tucked between books on mushrooms and recipe collections. She had written it between the ages of 15 and 20. At first, it was about typical teenage experiences - first loves, arguments with her parents - but beneath that, I began to see something deeper. Through her words, I saw how the Soviet totalitarian system worked - how it quietly shaped her, preparing her to become a part of it. Later, I found letters from my grandparents and saw how the same mechanisms had operated in their lives. I began connecting all of this with my own observations: the war that had been just 10 km from my home in Mariupol since 2014, the Russian propaganda flooding the media - it all seemed like an extension of the same system. So yes, this film is deeply personal. But it also speaks to a much broader context - about Mariupol, about Ukraine, and about Russia as a country that has inherited the totalitarian structures of the Soviet Union. My grandparents are no longer alive. My mother is gone. And now, so is Mariupol. That’s why this film is also about memory. Visually, it will combine archival material and present-day footage, weaving together past and present to preserve what can no longer be touched.

Is political and militant cinema still possible? 
There’s no war shown in my film, but after pitching it, I received feedback from viewers who said they still felt the presence of war - even though it never appears on screen. If you don’t see the war, it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Not seeing it is also a choice - and that choice is political.

How will the Eurimages Award help you develop your film?
On an emotional level, it gives me support and motivation to keep going. Our whole team has been working for five years to tell this story. I’m also talking about the struggle for Ukrainian identity. And as it turns out, the film itself has to fight for its Ukrainian identity, too. Ukraine currently has no funds for film production, so the Ukrainian part of the budget has to come from other sources. This award helps the film become Ukrainian.