Gunda: Victor Kossakovsky’s Lesson of Sensitivity at Berlinale 2020

“I drove seven hours just to see that pig” said Ally Derks,  as she was hugging Victor Kossakovsky minutes before the start of Gunda’s premiere at this year’s Berlin’s Film Festival (He dedicated the feature to her foundation). Just like the rest of us, which came to the festival to see the film in which the celebrated LA star Joaquin Phoenix invested in, not really knowing what to expect from a mute anti-meat feature. Phoenix was not present at the premiere, but his agent came along with some of her associates. The variety of nationalities the film brought together was moving - at first there were the Norwegians, which invested in the film and provided the titular pig, Gunda, next to them sat the Americans, then the film crew and in the end, the Polish post-production firm, which mastered the black and white color grading of the picture. All there because of a pig. 

The critically acclaimed documentary, which was featured in the Festival’s Documentaries and the new section Encounters, aimed at “fostering aesthetically and structurally daring works from independent, innovative filmmakers”. The film was introduced by the Festival’s Artistic Director -  Carlo Chatrian, who personally spoke about the film and the artist behind it. Viktor Kossakovsky is the hardest artist, whom I had to describe probably ever, and after meeting a fair share of them I have to admit I am still having trouble with him. The long-haired Russian has the sweetest soul you could ever imagine, but his bold artistic moves continue to constantly surprise us. During his opening speech at the premiere he said “I hope you will all be happier people after seeing this film”.  And I have to say we all were. His previous feature “Aquarela”, which was shortlisted for this year’s Oscars, was a documentary about the mightiness of water and its different forms, proving its natural superiority over human life. He spent a few weeks on a sailing boat in the ocean, during which he survived through a high degree storm and then travelled to Miami to go into a hurricane almost by himself. Name a more bad-ass filmmaker, I dare you. He has since become a guru of a sort to documentary filmmakers. 

You will never see a more sensitive and gentile image of farm animals, than the one depicted in Gunda within the main star - the pig and her piglets. All is in black and white, which only intensifies the effect. There was probably no one more suited to shoot this film than Kossakovsky, as he captured animal emotion in an incredible way, for many, including me, previously undiscovered. I want to go as far as to say that it was almost meditative, and for many I imagine life-changing. We accompany the protagonists from the day they are born to their symbolic departure, done in a subtle and suggestive way, not pushing for the vegetarian agenda, but rather making us fall in love with the newfound freedom of the animals. For the needs of the documentary they were released from their “natural” habitat of cages and put into a truly rural landscape. First were the piglets, who fight over the nipples of the mommy to get milk. Then came the best actors of all, the chickens. I mean, I think with a clear conscience I can say they did a better job than half of the acting scene in Hollywood. Warily they come out of the cages, some with only one leg, some without a part of feathers, having been through their fair share of caged traumas. The camera comes in close for each of the animals, in order to capture their facial micro-movements, as well as distinctive details about their natural instinct coming back all at once. Then came the cows, running, just to find a shaded spot and fan each other to fight off the flies. The story comes back to the pigs a few times to keep up with their their development, each time being able to do a bit more and revealing more about the “pig’s life”. 

It was obvious, but it wasn’t crass. The topic of vegetarianism is still leading, but it’s told in an incredibly classy and intelligent way. Victor Kossakovsky fell in love with a pig when he was young — you can imagine what happened to it —but it was why he wanted to make a film about it. And you could feel the love pouring through the cinematography, making you feel things about pigs you didn’t know you could.