A documentary by Mila Teshaieva and Marcus Lenz
Sometimes you need nothing more than images to tell a powerful story. No flashy editing, animated titles or celebrity voice-overs – just stark, unflinching visuals. What happened in the towns of Bucha, Irpin and Hostomel, on the outskirts of Kyiv, is both shocking and appalling. In the early days of Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, Russian forces advanced towards the capital but failed to take it. Along the way, these small towns were occupied – and then liberated within weeks.
When the extent of atrocities committed during that brief occupation emerged, they made global headlines. But as the war has dragged on – and with other conflicts vying for attention – the world has largely moved on. Shards of Light stands as both a record and a reminder of what happened, and how it continues to devastate lives.
Filmmakers Mila Teshaieva and Marcus Lenz entered Bucha as soon as it was liberated, capturing the scenes of devastation left behind by retreating Russian troops. Buildings can be rebuilt – but the real damage was done to the people who lived through it. At the time, world leaders responded to evidence of indiscriminate slaughter, rape and brutalisation with a fresh wave of statements condemning Russia. Yet, depressingly, little concrete action followed.
The most striking thing about this film is how ordinary its subjects are – a retired couple, a local councillor, a schoolgirl, a young couple getting married. Their lives are turned upside down when Russian soldiers arrive in their town. These people are, by definition, the survivors. The atrocities committed in the name of Putin’s war are all too real for them.
I spoke with director Mila Teshaieva about her experiences and how the film came to be.
“We made the film without waiting for funding, because these stories would have been lost otherwise. I was in Berlin when the war started in 2022. I returned to Ukraine – very much against the tide of people trying to leave. On the first day that Bucha was liberated, I went there.
I almost couldn’t grasp what I saw. I took photographs, wrote a diary, and ended up making my previous film, When Spring Came to Bucha, about the immediate aftermath. But I kept getting updates from Bucha, and as time passed, I realised I needed to tell their ongoing, complex stories.”
“Modern warfare is recorded in ways previous wars were not. Identifying individual soldiers responsible for war crimes is now possible. Putting them on trial may never happen – but the authorities in Bucha are working hard to hold them to account. They’re staging trials in absentia, hoping to bring closure to victims. But I’m not sure it really helps. These ‘trials’ are forcing traumatised people to relive an extremely painful past – and there’s often no meaningful resolution.”
As the film unfolds, we see how difficult – perhaps impossible – healing will be. One of the most powerful images is a slow funeral procession moving past bombed-out buildings. The film also raises an uncomfortable subject rarely discussed: collaboration. How much should someone cooperate with occupying forces to protect others? One woman, who tried to ensure people had food and shelter, is condemned by her neighbours. To her, she was simply helping people survive.
At the start of the film, there’s a fragile hope that the region and its people might recover. But by the end, we’ve seen the depth of the emotional and psychological damage. This is an essential documentary – one that deserves to be widely seen. It reminds us not only of what happened in Ukraine, but of what war does to the lives of so-called ‘ordinary people’. Because they are not ordinary. They are us.
