The Art of Resistance: How ‘Times New Roman’ Captures Ukraine’s Soul in Crisis
When I first heard about Philip Sotnychenko’s upcoming film Times New Roman, what immediately struck me was its audacity. Here’s a director, fresh off the success of his debut La Palisiada, choosing to tackle Ukraine’s war-torn reality not through explicit battle scenes or political speeches, but through the fractured psyche of an artist. It’s a bold move, and one that feels deeply personal. Personally, I think this approach is what makes the project so compelling—it’s not just a film about war; it’s a film about what war does to the human spirit.
A Midlife Crisis Meets Historical Trauma
At the heart of Times New Roman is Roman, a Kyiv-based artist grappling with addiction, midlife disillusionment, and the emotional weight of Russia’s invasion. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Sotnychenko intertwines Roman’s personal struggles with Ukraine’s historical trauma. The film’s premise—reenacting the assassinations of Ukrainian independence leaders—isn’t just a plot device; it’s a mirror to Ukraine’s ongoing fight for sovereignty. In my opinion, this layering of personal and political narratives is where the film’s true power lies. It’s a reminder that history isn’t just something we read about—it’s something we carry, especially in times of crisis.
The Artist as a Stand-In for a Nation
One thing that immediately stands out is how Roman’s journey reflects the broader Ukrainian experience. His internal conflict—stay or leave, act or feel—echoes the dilemmas faced by countless Ukrainians since 2022. What many people don’t realize is that war doesn’t just destroy cities; it fractures identities. Sotnychenko’s decision to center the story on an artist is no accident. Artists, after all, are often the ones who articulate the unspoken pain of a nation. If you take a step back and think about it, Times New Roman isn’t just Roman’s story—it’s Ukraine’s story, told through the lens of someone who’s both observer and participant.
The Challenges of Creating Art in Chaos
What this really suggests is the immense difficulty of producing such a film in wartime. Producer Sashko Chubko’s words about the mental, physical, and financial challenges hit hard. Four years of war have left many Ukrainians exhausted, yet they persist. This raises a deeper question: What does it mean to create art in a time of crisis? From my perspective, it’s an act of defiance, a way of reclaiming humanity in the face of dehumanization. The fact that Times New Roman is even being made is a testament to the resilience of Ukraine’s creative community.
A Pan-European Collaboration with a Purpose
A detail that I find especially interesting is the film’s pan-European co-production. With partners from Lithuania, Germany, and the Netherlands, Times New Roman isn’t just a Ukrainian story—it’s a European one. This collaboration underscores the shared responsibility of confronting Russia’s historical meddling in Ukraine. It’s also a practical necessity, given the financial strain on Ukraine’s cultural sector. The Ukrainian State Film Agency’s upcoming funding announcement is a glimmer of hope, but it’s clear that international support remains crucial.
Sotnychenko’s Vision: Blending the Personal and the Political
What makes Sotnychenko’s work stand out is his ability to weave together the personal and the political without sacrificing artistic integrity. His debut, La Palisiada, was praised for its dream-like, elliptical storytelling, and I suspect Times New Roman will follow suit. In a world where war is often reduced to headlines and statistics, Sotnychenko’s films force us to confront its human cost. This is cinema as both art and activism, and it’s exactly what we need right now.
Looking Ahead: What Times New Roman Could Mean for Ukrainian Cinema
If Times New Roman succeeds, it could pave the way for more unconventional, politically charged films from Ukraine. But success here isn’t just about box office numbers or awards—it’s about keeping Ukraine’s story alive in the global consciousness. Personally, I’m excited to see how Sotnychenko’s vision unfolds, especially given the film’s ambitious blend of performance art, historical reenactment, and psychological drama.
Final Thoughts: Why This Film Matters
In a world increasingly numb to the realities of war, Times New Roman feels like a necessary wake-up call. It’s a film that refuses to simplify, instead embracing the complexity of its subject matter. What this really suggests is that art, at its best, doesn’t just reflect reality—it challenges it. As we await the film’s release, I’m left with one lingering thought: In a time of war, perhaps the most revolutionary act is to keep creating.
