> Interviews

Three Women
Jannik Eckenstaler (Editor)

---

With the Russian invasion and an ongoing war, the European Union provides special travel measures for incoming Ukrainian nationals. But this policy was no help for Maksym Melnyk, the Ukrainian director of Three Women who wanted to fly to Japan to attend Yamagata International Documentary Film Festival 2023. Based in Berlin since his years at the film university in Babelsberg, Maksym found that he needed a re-entry permit to the EU before departing for Japan, or he would not be allowed back in Germany. Since the complicated paperwork would not have been ready in time for the festival, he asked the film’s editor Jannik Eckenstaler to travel to present the film in YIDFF’s International Competition.

The film’s audience included 600 excited local middle schoolers who watched the film and took part in a Q&A with the German film editor. Jannik commented on how the Yamagata landscape looked similar to the Ukrainian village in the film, nestled in a valley far from the capital, close to the country’s western border to Europe—the destination of flying balloons, where bears come and go, and where the villagers migrate in search of jobs. There was no war yet, but the village was already at risk of disappearing. The filmmakers visited the village over many seasons, and spent more time helping to collect potatoes and take cows to the field than filming. You could say the film became the story of filmmakers falling in love with their protagonists, reminiscent of the Japanese classic documentary Living on the River Agano (1992, YIDFF 1993).

---

—How did Three Women come about?

For Maksym, the filmmaking became a journey for himself as a person. He kept returning to the village to film because he’d become so close to the protagonists. One day he decided he had to put an end to the shooting. He came back to Germany with 150 hours of material. He needed someone to edit it. He hadn’t started editing until we met, which was highly unusual. At first, we had to find a method to tackle this large amount of material, especially since I don’t speak the Ukrainian language except for a few words. We first cut down the material to 70 hours, and then we spent two weeks just watching it together as he translated. In the first viewing I really SAW the movie already. I was drawn into it. It was like I was there in the village, even though I’d never been there. Already in the first hours I saw, I found emotion. In the footage you could feel that Maksym had a connection to his protagonists and this was the strength of the film, the strength of his work. He was closely connected to the village and what was happening there. Through the footage, he hooked me—the first audience of the film. I said: Okay, I want to work on this, to see everything through, to make a film out of this.

—The audience becomes fond of the villagers and feels immersed in the village, and there’s structure and craft that drives the emotions with a subtle hand. There’s warmth, compassion, a sense of humor, and humanity.

What I tried to convey were the feelings, the warmth, the sense of humor that I had first felt in the footage. This was the essence of the film. Especially as a feature film, this has to be as strong as possible in the final edit. The good thing was that we were able to take two years to edit the film. This included long breaks, as there was the Russian invasion and Maksym was busy doing other things. It was great to have the time to re-evaluate everything, to think and re-watch over and over again. We were able to check and confirm to see if the emotions were there or not, in the right spot or not.

—The film’s release matched the timing of a global interest in Ukraine and what it was like before the war. But weren’t you jittery to finish and move on?

We didn’t have pressure from funders, because our low-budget producers were just the university. Usually there are no deadlines for this kind of student project, and there was no internal pressure. Maksym always said he didn’t want to rush for deadlines and wanted to make the best film possible.

—He was lucky that the timeline worked for you.

In the intense process, you become friends somehow and everything goes right. We could communicate our feelings openly, and we knew if we needed a break or not. It was a small group, just me and Maksym and two, three professors from the university, plus a few friends who sometimes saw new cuts and that was it. We wanted to keep the team small.

—You don’t speak Ukrainian. What were other difficulties for you?

Our three protagonists were each very wonderful but there was always a focus on Hannah. The first roughcut was all about her. It was like a filmmaker falling in love with a village farmer. The challenge was to balance between the three women, to cut down Hannah and strengthen the others to create a balance. It was not easy because Hannah was the emotional focus of the film. And you always want to see more, to get more of that. But when it’s too much, it doesn’t work anymore, so we had to be careful.

—It could have been a film about her and the director.

Maksym and I talked about it. It could have been a film about any one of them, it could have been three movies. But the concept was three women. And the story line of Hannah and Maksym becomes stronger when it is embedded in the context of the village, against the context of the other two women. Each living their lives with problems and hopes, it becomes a bigger thing against the backdrop. The story of Hannah and Maksym by itself could have become too sweet or too small. So we took the option of reproducing the village itself, and to embed the story in it, so that you’d feel that the space and time and emotions were true. For example, the issue of economy, and that there were mostly women remaining in the village. When you see what’s going on around Hannah and where she lives, this illustrates her life. You understand her situation there.

—Who are the two camera-people credited?

Maksym first started shooting with camerawoman Meret Madörin. During the first week, they met Hannah. Meret made the first connection with Hannah, and it was great because it was easier for Hannah to open up to a woman on the team. When Meret couldn’t continue because of practical reasons, Maksym took Florian Baumgarden back to the village. By then Maksym knew Hannah well, and you know the story—she kind of adopted them both, they were like the son or the husband or the family she lost. Florian is the cameraman who shot most of the film, and Maksym directed and recorded sound. This kind of film only works when you have a small team. A team of five wouldn’t have fit in Hannah’s kitchen. Hannah couldn’t pronounce Florian’s name, and she kept calling him “the German.”

—What are your favorite scenes and why?

That’s a hard question. There was a scene where Maksym got his hair cut too, which was really funny for me. But you can’t have two haircut scenes, and the cameraman getting his hair cut was stronger and better for the story, with the winter snow more fit to the film. It’s hard to say which my favorite scene is, but maybe it’s the first Christmas scene with Hannah. I always felt there was something happening between the two of them at that moment, and there was something different to the normal documentary shoot. Maksym opens up, and gets in front of the camera. This always gets to me, and it’s become the core scene of the film.

—So Maksym at first did not mean to be in the film?

It was not planned, but it became important in the editing concept. The filming starts as an observation—Maksym acts like a reporter, asking short questions and getting short answers. But he knew that if he wanted to get closer to the protagonists, especially Hannah, he had to get on her level and come in front of the camera. When he started to do that, he couldn’t go back. He knew then that the film had to come from within him, and to reveal who he was.

—There’s a warm sense of humor about small things in daily life, despite the bleak reality.

It was in the footage. Maksym was gifted in the way he can have fun with the protagonists, creating an easygoing and humorous atmosphere without making fun of them or laughing at them. It’s a thin line, but it’s so funny when people open up. He just tries it out. Reading the horoscope in the post office is one of my favorite scenes. For the people living in this village, it is not an easy life for sure, but they look on the bright side and he brought that out in that scene. There was always a social gathering when Maria made her rounds of payments. Maksym created a situation where everyone could be involved.

—You are also sculpting the humor in the edit.

You’re right, Maksym and I had a similar sense of humor, so I knew what he was doing there. I felt it and laughed. So then you know exactly where to cut and how to create this situation, which reaction shot to show, to find the right timing to make the punchline.

In documentary, I’m interested in the kinds of situations that make other emotions in the film strong. When you have funny moments and melancholic or even sad moments, it creates breaks and contrast between scenes. You can sculpt and structure it and create ups and downs. I really look for those moments when I edit documentary. Footage where I discover situations like that becomes more interesting for me.

—We are introduced to the village through the charming eccentricities of its residents, but themes of death and solitude emerge towards the end. How did you and the director discuss how to structure and end the film?

I think beginnings and endings are always difficult especially when editing documentary, because you have endless possibilities. Our ending was not planned in advance, but it was actually one of the last things they shot. Maksym always knew that he wanted to end the film with the scene on the mountain with the fog. We discussed other possibilities but we always came back to this and I felt it was the right decision.

As you say, we see the villagers’ quirkiness and the people are warm and sweet, but then as we get deeper into the story, we had to change the atmosphere in order to get a step closer to them. What are their hopes and fears? We had to make the jump and cover serious topics and themes that were important for the women.

And then there was this thing. However close the two filmmakers became to Hannah, they can’t stay and can’t be her family. It was always clear. So there was this point, even in the footage you can feel it. Hannah realizes it, too. There was a little change in what you feel and how the footage felt. And we put it in the film.

—A gear shift.

Yes, and we had to weave it into the structure, too. Somewhere in the film you have to prepare for the farewell. We brought up the themes with the bird when she is in the mountain, and that she can smell in the air that something is going to change.

—But nothing seems to be forced in the story arch.

I think if you are lucky, you will find something like this once in your life as a director. And Maksym was very lucky. He couldn’t force the protagonists to do anything. Hannah would say no if he asked her to walk from here to there. It just wasn’t possible. This was one of the reasons he had to come in front of the camera. He couldn’t direct from behind the camera anymore. That’s why we ended the film the way we ended it. We were just there, and as suddenly as we were in the village, it disappears in the fog. We can’t tell the end of the story for those three women, they are still living and still doing things and everything’s still going on. To end the film, we have to leave the village. But life goes on there, it’s not like THE END of the story for them. It’s just like, now we are leaving, the film is over. It’s a moral choice of the filmmaker towards those who appear in the film.

—Did Maksym show the film in the Ukraine?

Not in the village, but in Kiev at a film festival. And not so long ago it was shown in the town where Maksym comes from. It’s a two-hour drive from the village. Villagers know about it, but Maksym is not sure if he wants to show the film in the village. Hannah doesn’t want it. She has no problem if it’s shown in Japan or in Kiev but she won’t be comfortable with it showing in the village. Everyone knows each other so intimately in the village.

—Does the director fear he must go to war?

He told me he wanted to go back to Ukraine someday, but . . . .  This is why it is so difficult for him to do his next project, because most of his ideas and interests are settled in Ukraine. But he can’t go to Ukraine and come back to make the film with me or someone in Berlin again. When he goes, it is his decision to be involved in the war, somehow. But I don’t know if he’s decided yet.

—What have you been doing after Three Women?

Three Women was finished in 2022 and had its premiere at Dok Leipzig. It was shown in True/False Festival, New York, Argentina, France, Visions du Reel, Germany several times, and so forth. As for me, I was co-editing another film at the same time as Three Women. A short fiction film The Kidnapping of the Bride (2023). It had its premiere at Sundance, and won a special jury prize there, shown at Berlin Film Festival and is now going around the world. Now I am not working on a project, but maybe I am being picky after the great footage of Three Women. I want to keep up with this kind of work to find something that I can really involve myself with, to feel this connection with the footage and themes.

—What is your background?

I studied geography in school, so maybe the socio-geographic reference is a connection to this film. Afterwards I decided that I wanted my passion to be my profession. I studied film editing at Babelsberg and edited short documentary and fiction movies. This is my first feature film.

Compiled by Fujioka Asako

Photography: Takahashi Nana / Video: Oshita Yumi / 2023-10-08