Земля блакитна, ніби апельсин

This is one of these true-life fly on the wall documentaries that really does hit home. It centres around the mother of four "Anna" who is trying to bring up her children with some semblance of normality amidst the ongoing troubles in the Donbass area of the Ukraine. With the bombs dropping and the bullets never far away, the family decide to make a film depicting their day to day struggles and their day to day joys - and, surprisingly, there are quite a few of the latter to brighten up the otherwise prevailing scenario of doom and gloom. The children age from mid-teens to ten years younger, and they share a passion for the cinema. Now there is a lack of what we could call spontaneity here. The cast - all amateurs who really are living through this situation, do frequently come across as well cued and rehearsed, but that's more about their serious efforts at delivery. What they are saying and representing comes across as entirely real and their desire to get it right suggests a professionalism that sometimes seems incongruous when you consider just how dangerous their day-to-day lives actually are. The fact that they bother to produce something of an high standard is really quite commendable. The family are a close knit bunch, they have their good days and their not so good days, their tantrums and their tiaras - but there's a real sense of love emanating for us here, and a bit of daft humour too. Anna is trying to keep life for her family as "ordinary" as possible - even if they do have to take to shelters at night to avoid the bombings. They use technology to create something poignant here, and the intimate photography delivers something of the vulnerability of all as they refuse to cower in an underground bunker. Not always an easy watch, but enthralling.