Oksana Yavorska

Creating a Personal Documentary Film

In 2017, Oksana created the documentary “Pidvolochysk: History and People” about her hometown. Using crowdfunding and self-taught skills, she produced a 50-minute film without grants. Despite obstacles, including censorship attempts, the film gained 7,000 views on YouTube, marking an important milestone in her creative journey.

Local History — Restoring Interrupted Continuity

In 2017, inspired by a short amateur film about Ternopil, I decided to create something similar for the town where I was born and raised. Just like that, having nothing, I managed to create the documentary “Pidvolochysk: History and People” in less than a year.

It turned out to be more about people than history, but the film itself became an interesting snapshot of its time — capturing the years after the Revolution of Dignity, the occupation of Crimea and Donbas, and before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. As one of the positive critics wrote: “Not enough years have passed, yet this film is already an important resource for archiving and study by future historians.”

Photo of Oksana in the fields of Pidvolochysk

Photo: Uri Sobi

How did I manage to create a 50-minute film with no knowledge and no grants? The answer is simple: with a team of like-minded and dedicated people.

I asked Yuri Suchodolyak (Yuri Sobi) for help, who handled part of the filming and editing. Under his guidance, I learned the art of videography, composition setup, and technical aspects. He already had experience creating short non-fiction films, so the movie about Pidvolochysk owes much of its unique soul and vibe to his skills.

To stay up-to-date, I found a drone operator (rare at the time) who filmed aerial shots of Pidvolochysk. These helped make the visuals richer, even though we filmed in early spring. Petro Fedorovych not only filmed but also faithfully attended all screenings of the movie.

History is Made by People, Not Places

We managed to record interviews with 13 people who shared their life stories and insights about Pidvolochysk. Among them were: Yuri Mokriy (historian and local historian), Igor Shvak (paramedic), Maria Mokriy (former UPA liaison officer), Violetta Salko (community activist), Larisa Duleba (owner of the “Escorial” restaurant), Boris Mandibur (former chess club teacher), Zhanna Yuzva (writer and poet), Fedir Kryklyvyi (soldier and ATO participant), Maria Krykh (head of the Polish society), Father Zenoviy (Greek Catholic priest), Father Tarasiy (Orthodox priest), Bohdan Stavinsky (English teacher), Maria Dobrunova (principal of Pidvolochysk School No. 1).

Photo of Oksana with Yuri Mokriy

Photo: Uri Sobi

Unfortunately, since the release of the film, Maria Mokriy, Boris Mandibur, and Igor Shvak have passed away. This is why this work holds such importance for me, as it managed to capture a very short but fascinating glimpse into the lives of these remarkable individuals.

This project taught me that you shouldn’t fear challenges and that learning can happen on the go. Looking back at the film now, I see many technical mistakes (such as sound, color, or framing errors). The difference in cameras and lenses is also noticeable. But I don’t regret doing it. How else was I supposed to learn at the time?

A Camera on Credit and Challenges from Local Politicians

The story of the video camera deserves special mention in this case. When I started the project, I filmed part of the footage with a borrowed Canon. Unfortunately, the owner wanted the camera back before all the shooting was complete. This left me with a dilemma: either borrow new equipment or buy my own. I chose the latter.

A new camera without a lens cost over $1,000, which was an unaffordable sum for me at the time. I took out a loan to purchase a Panasonic Lumix G80, choosing it intuitively among many other models. I paid off the loan within about nine months, even earlier than scheduled. A basic lens cost an additional $300, but it was worth it.

The crowdfunding campaign that Yuri and I organized to fund our work was also an interesting experience. We created both a video appeal and a written message that I composed to ask for support. Interestingly, the written message brought in more funds than the video. We received financial support from people featured in the film as well as benevolent donors interested in the project.

Screenshot of a Facebook fundraising post
Continuation of the Facebook fundraising post

Not everything went smoothly with the film: there were communication issues and poor planning. Because of this, I had to finish the project on my own. I asked my friend Orest Dmytryk to film the last scenes with me, as I added myself as a host between the stories of the film’s protagonists.

The first screening of the film was preceded by an unpleasant incident in the office of the then-current mayor, Vitaliy Datsko, who asked me to show him the film before allowing me into the municipal cinema. He and his administration imposed this censorship because elections were approaching, and his main competitor, Violetta Salko, appeared in the film.

Even though the screening time was supposedly agreed upon, the film wasn’t shown on the big screen on time because the local council decided to combine the screening with their own concerts and performances. People who came for the film started to leave, unwilling to wait an extra hour. As a result, the screening was sabotaged.

Photo after the first screening

I didn’t lose hope and organized additional screenings at the “Escorial” restaurant in Pidvolochysk and the “Bunkermuz” restaurant in Ternopil, where people came to support me. Overall, when I uploaded the film to YouTube, it reached 7,000 views — roughly equivalent to the entire population of the town.

Throughout the project, I experienced both moments of great joy and sadness, but I’m glad my mother encouraged me to finish it rather than postpone it for better times.

Yes, this product wasn’t perfect, but it was one of the first steps in my professional growth in the creative industry.