‘To The Victory!’ review: Toronto’s Platform winner blends fact and fiction in a near-future Ukraine

Dir/scr: Valentyn Vasyanovych. Ukraine/Lithuania. 2025. 105mins

The exclamation mark in the title of Valentyn Vasyanovych’s near-future set drama could be seen to be ironic; the point made in this story of a filmmaker navigating an imagined post-war Ukraine is that the end of fighting will not bring automatic peace. But there is also a defiance, a determination that however the ongoing conflict with Russia comes to an end, Ukraine will remain standing. The film has an ideological and creative boldness, together with a well-balanced blend of humour and pathos.

 A well-balanced blend of humour and pathos

There have been a plethora of documentaries and features dealing with war in Ukraine but not so many that imagine a life beyond the fighting, which should help To The Victory! stand out in a crowded field. It is the third in Vasyanovych’s so-called ‘dystopian’ trilogy, following 2019 Venice Horizons winner Atlantis, which was also set in a fictional post-war Eastern Ukraine, and 2022 Venice competition title Reflections, about a Ukrainian soldier captured by Russian forces. This film’s Toronto Platform win should garner attention, and its warm performances and lightness of touch are likely to endear it to distributors and audiences alike.

A title card tells us it’s one year after the war, a radio broadcast that it’s October 2026 – and that the country’s population is less than 30 million as many Ukranians have fled overseas, countless families being split up in the process. That includes the family of Valyk (played by Vasyanovych himself), a proud Ukrainian filmmaker who wishes to stay in his homeland, even though his wife and teenage daughter have made a new life for themselves in Vienna.

This did, in fact, happen to Vasyanovych’s own family, and to many of his friends, and there is a distinct blurring of fact and fiction throughout To The Victory!. The director plays with audience perception right from an extended opening sequence in which Valyk and his teen son Yaroslav (Hryhoriy Naumov) chat at the kitchen table. Suddenly, a voice yells ‘cut’ and crew members swarm the kitchen to reset. What we have been watching is a sequence from Valyk’s upcoming film. But, as Valyk has roped his own reluctant son in to star alongside him, it’s also representative of the real friction that exists in this fractured family.

This generational tension becomes key to Vasyanovych’s screenplay. Valyk and his aging father – with whom, in tender, funny scenes, he visits the graves of various family members – have a deep connection to Ukraine, and want to be buried there. The directionless Yaroslav and his gig-economy friends seem less interested in setting down roots. The war, of course, has further weakened that bond to the homeland.

Working with a skeleton crew who take roles on both sides of the camera, Vasyanovych builds his story in gentle layers – the frustrated creative choosing between his work and his family; the families torn apart by conflict; the constant lure of a more settled life overseas – to paint a subtle picture of the after-effects of conflict. He never feels the need to widen out to Ukraine’s war-torn landscapes, rather keeps the focus on the daily minutiae of Valyk’s life. That’s underscored by the unfussy locked-off long takes favoured by Vasyanovych who, as usual, serves as DOP here, this time alongside Mykhailo Lubarsky.

There is an ironic tone here that goes beyond the title, the film acknowledging the inherent self-centredness of a man who would rather follow his artistic vision than his family. A self-reflective humour infuses scenes in which we see Valyk making his film, directing his actors or talking to camera. A standout sequence sees him giving a video interview to a half-full auditorium at a European film festival; after Valyk passionately shares his motivations and sense of helplessness in Ukranian, the moderator responds by asking him to speak in English.

Such moments would seem to speak to the futility of his endeavours, but also highlight their terrific importance: as a filmmaker, this is the only language Valyk (and Vasyanovych) has with which to express his feelings about this event that has consumed his entire life. It’s notable, however, that To The Victory! ends not with a great epiphany or rousing call to arms, but a longed-for moment of quiet, everyday contentment.