“On a desolate former nuclear test site, three generations confront the haunting legacy of the past as they fight for survival and hope in a world on the brink of destruction,” reads the synopsis for director Zhanana Kurmasheva’s debut feature We Live Here (Atameken). The documentary about the lasting impact of a former Soviet nuclear test site in Kazakhstan will world premiere on Sunday at CPH:DOX, the Copenhagen International Documentary Film Festival, which opened in Denmark’s capital on Wednesday and runs through March 30.
On the vast steppes of Kazakhstan, although years have passed since the tests, “the past is still haunting the site,” notes the synopsis of the film, which was produced by Banu Ramazanova. “Between 1949 and 1991, 456 nuclear tests left a legacy of radioactive contamination at the Semipalatinsk test site where one couple, convinced that their daughter’s illness stems from radiation, seeks proof.”
With the steppe serving as a haunting metaphor for the broader world — or even the entire planet — Kurmasheva’s debut feature “is a chilling and cinematic work, with each carefully arranged image contributing to a whole that only grows in existential gravity and historical scale as the film progresses,” the CPH:DOX website says.
The movie, the first-ever film from Kazakhstan to screen at the Copenhagen festival, will debut as one of 12 entries in its Dox:Award: international competition lineup.
“There have been many films and TV series about this topic in our country because it’s part of the wounds of our nation,” Kurmasheva explains to THR. “So some of the locals are tired of talking about it because they have not seen many results. But my mother was born there. And for me, this story is not just something to cry about. Of course, it’s awful. But first of all, it’s about realizing what it means for us, and what we can do. Especially because [in our culture] it’s our habit not to talk but just hide your feelings and thoughts.”
When she first arrived in the area of the former nuclear test site to start work on her doc, the filmmaker immediately sensed how different the place felt. “I’m Kazakh, and I know what the steppe is. But this steppe was totally different,” she recalls. “My first question was where is the fence, where are the signs, how can I know where the radiation starts? You are in the center of the steppe, and you feel like you’re alone on the planet, and you cannot hear anything else around, and you cannot see the horizon.”
She continues: “And when I talked with the local people, it was very hard to accept that we can do this to our people. Yes, the Soviet Union did all of that but what about us now? Why are we so indifferent to each other? It’s our people, it’s my nation. Why am I so indifferent? Why is our government so indifferent?”
Highlighting the bigger global story behind the local stores, she also emphasizes that humans may cause their own extinction, but the planet could survive. “Our nature is much stronger than us, and we are little, little creators who try to fight each other, but it’s all that like nothing when you compare it to Earth,” she shares.
‘We Live Here’
Courtesy of Plan B
Getting into Copenhagen is “a stepping stone for our documentary community back home,” Ramazanova tells THR. “In Central Asia, documentaries are more traditionally on TV, and people don’t take it as seriously as a creative . So this is a big push for our industry and for Central Asia.”
She adds: “We have been getting a lot of calls from Kazakhstan and Kurdistan, congratulating us, because it’s an opportunity to turn people’s eyes to Central Asia. And learning from CPH will help us share that knowledge with others in our film community.”
Sales agent Syndicado, which recently boarded the film, will also look to sell it to various parts of the world. “In Central Asia, to make an impact, you have to first make an impact abroad,” producer Ramazanova tells THR. “You’re not validated here until critics and experts from Europe, Asia or the U.S. say that your film is important. And we do want to make an impact back home.”
‘We Live Here’
Courtesy of Plan B
The director and producer already have a new doc in mind. “We do have our second feature that is in early development,” Ramazanova shares. “We’re staying in the field of ecology. The second feature is about mass consumerism.”
She can even share some more details: “It is about the path of one T-shirt — the cotton comes from Central Asia, it goes to Uzbekistan to become a fabric, and then it will end up in Chile, in the biggest [clothing landfill],” she says. “So it’s about being mindful about work and buying a lot of stuff.”
We Live Here also feeds into a big hot-button topic of debate at a time when post-Soviet Union countries, including Ukraine, that gave up their nuclear arsenals have been debating whether they should bring back nuclear weapons in a world full of conflict.
“It’s kind of a circle of history,” says Kurmasheva. “Humanity repeats what we did before. It’s a circle that we’re stuck in, and we cannot see how we can communicate with each other without weapons, without fighting.”
‘We Live Here’
Courtesy of Plan B
We Live Here‘s original title, Atameken, means “My Sacred Land.” The director says the phrase explains why locals stay in an area hit by radioactivity even when others may not understand that decision: “I was born here. It’s very special for me,” she says. “It is also related to independence and being decolonized. It’s where their grandparents were born and where they’re buried. They cannot leave that place.”
Concludes Kurmasheva: “It’s maybe a small place but it is the place where they live. But we all only have one place, only one Earth where we can live.”
