VIKTOR
Viktor wants to be a soldier, but his deafness prevents it. His late father instilled “the military spirit,” and by Miyamoto Musashi’s canonical The Strategy of the Samurai, Viktor aspires to a noble warrior philosophy. Facing rejection after rejection, he finally convinces the local army to take him on as a volunteer field photographer. This opportunity to pursue his talent changes his path forever.
Viktor poetically narrates his thoughts. It is like a love letter to his deceased father. The audio comes in dynamic forms, hyper-augmented and muffled. It is the way our protagonist receives the sound. Director and veteran war photographer Olivier Sarbil hired the sound design team that worked on TIFF ’19 Platform contender Sound of Metal. It creates a dazzling effect, placing the viewer in Viktor’s body and mind, if only for 90 minutes.
The score is haunting and melancholy. The stunning black and white cinematography mirrors Viktor’s still photography on the Nikon, often slung around his neck. Footage of the first attack on Ukraine by Russia is visceral in a way that caught me off guard despite knowing it was coming. Viktor and his mother hunker in their basement as air raid sirens wail overhead. Their anxiety is palpable. That is merely the beginning.
The cinematic style of the film is jarring but magnificent. Sarbil utilizes classically powerful angles and breathtaking closeups. It is almost easy to forget it is a documentary. Remembering rekindles the tension and fear.
The film dives into disability discrimination and the chaos of armed conflict. The final scene is perfection. VIKTOR is an exquisitely crafted war diary through a unique lens and perspective.
Fusing rigorous reportage with innovative cinematic subjectivity, this bold documentary from veteran war photographer Olivier Sarbil is a uniquely intimate portrait of a Deaf person’s experience of the Russian invasion of Ukraine.







The editing combined with the score creates a charming and deeply affecting quality. Confessional diary logs place us in Ella’s headspace. She uses home videos and sit-down chats with her Mum and Dad about what it was like to raise her. Seeking specialists and families with the same disability offers Ella more questions than answers. We follow Ella through an unexpected pregnancy. Her gorgeous son River and the Covid 19 pandemic change how she views potential surgery options. As she speaks to others via Zoom, she contemplates the appreciation of her body.
The discussion of ableism is paramount to understanding Ella’s life and any family with a differently abled member. I am the mother of a seven-year-old son with Autism Spectrum Disorder. I suspect that with his off-the-charts cognitive abilities, the more precise diagnosis is Aspergers. I appreciated Ella and her best friend Naomi’s honest discussions about her autism and the challenges of an invisible disability. Each admits they cannot fully understand the inner workings of one another’s feelings and worry they have inadvertently said horrible things to one another. Understanding the staring, judgment, and how it pierces the heart cannot be ignored. That is also why the conversations with Ella’s parents resonated with me. Like Ella seeking someone to connect to, her Mum and Dad were touchstones for me.
IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE? tackles outdated stereotypes and deep-seated trauma, but also optimism. I hope Ella Glendining understands the gravity of her film. I have to thank her for sharing her life, and I look forward to sharing her story with my son when he is a bit older. IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE? celebrates individualism and isn’t that the ultimate goal?
You must be logged in to post a comment.