Review: The Distant Barking of Dogs / SFF / Madison

The Distant Barking of Dogs, directed by Simon Lereng Wilmont, examines the persistence of childhood within a war-torn context, following the life of ten-year-old Oleg and his grandmother Alexandra over the course of a year; a period of time characterised by the increasing disappearance of the people in his life.

Set in Hnutove, Eastern Ukraine, a few hills away from the frontline of war, the film opens with an icy landscape, the first words spoken being by the guardian grandmother; “the war came last summer” – immediately defining the war as an ongoing presence. The title; “The Distant Barking of Dogs’, refers euphemistically to the constant sound of the bombings and shootings on the frontline.

Throughout the course of the film, Oleg seeks to maintain a close-to-normal childhood, spending the days with his cousin Yarik playing in the fields and the river. School classrooms are full, and soldiers educate students on survival. However, as the film progresses, the seasons change and the continuity of war becomes a norm. Death and violence become part of daily conversation and capture the children’s imagination becoming part of their play. The fear of war materialises in the jokes between the children, who use blunt comedy as an emotional release, and playful wrestling is paired with the derogatory terms of war – continually undercutting their playful innocence. Gradually, neighbours move away or fall subject to the bombings, and Oleg is left with a class of only ten pupils, and a cousin who is too far away to visit.

The film is experienced through the eyes of Oleg, but narrated by his grandmother, constructing his youth as the binary between playful innocence and an adult maturity. Speaking as a voice of reason, the grandmother’s narration is a continual reminder of the emotional toll that the adaption to war has taken, where joy is experienced with the bleak reminder of its futility, and lifesaving lectures become a commonplace. With the grandmother’s age becoming increasingly problematic, the fragility of Oleg’s childhood innocence is placed in even greater suspense.

Shot beautifully, and with excellent casting, the film lives up to the never-faltering standards of Scandinavian film, and is a definite must-see for its raw portrayals of persistence and love within such an emotionally deteriorating setting.

Madison (16)

Distant Barking of Dogs
Sydney Film Festival