Oksana Karpovych

Intercepted is a journey through Ukraine that reveals the banality of evil behind the Russian invasion with the shocking juxtaposition of two realities: the Ukrainians who have been suffering and resisting the war violence, and the Russian military, and civilians, who have been perpetrating it.

Intercepted is a journey through Ukraine that reveals the banality of evil behind the Russian invasion with the shocking juxtaposition of two realities: the Ukrainians who have been suffering and resisting the war violence, and the Russian military, and civilians, who have been perpetrating it.

After André Levesque missionnaire, Oksana Karpovych is back at the RIDM with her first feature, which she filmed in her native country, Ukraine. To take the pulse of the country, the filmmaker adopts one of documentary cinema’s most prolific sub-genres: the train film. Filmed entirely in the old, run-down, overcrowded passenger trains used by ordinary Ukrainians, the film captures conversations, observes the landscape, and accompanies several protagonists on their journey; they open our eyes to popular preoccupations in a country that seems perpetually anchored in its highly visible Soviet legacy. A fine lesson in listening and humanity.

Everything in Sergiy’s immigrant life is temporary except his incurable love for his motherland. He has a Canadian passport but his soul belongs to Ukraine. Despite having lived in Quebec for 15 years he still wants to go back.

Everything in Sergiy’s immigrant life is temporary except his incurable love for his motherland. He has a Canadian passport but his soul belongs to Ukraine. Despite having lived in Quebec for 15 years he still wants to go back.

Everything in Sergiy’s immigrant life is temporary except his incurable love for his motherland. He has a Canadian passport but his soul belongs to Ukraine. Despite having lived in Quebec for 15 years he still wants to go back.

For the past 4 years a devout Catholic Andre Levesque has been performing dance shows inside the trains of Montreal's underground metro. Using old school pop and rock music hits as the accompaniment to his amateur dances, he devotes his performances to Jesus Christ and Virgin Mary.

Immigration resembles a postponed Lacan "mirror stage": a traumatic moment of distancing from your ideal "self", from an imaginary mother's uterus. It is an insight of a negative kind that brings me knowledge that I will never lose. This film is a farewell to my old home, a mosaic of my childhood memories and a weeping psalm to the identity which I left behind.

Immigration resembles a postponed Lacan "mirror stage": a traumatic moment of distancing from your ideal "self", from an imaginary mother's uterus. It is an insight of a negative kind that brings me knowledge that I will never lose. This film is a farewell to my old home, a mosaic of my childhood memories and a weeping psalm to the identity which I left behind.

Immigration resembles a postponed Lacan "mirror stage": a traumatic moment of distancing from your ideal "self", from an imaginary mother's uterus. It is an insight of a negative kind that brings me knowledge that I will never lose. This film is a farewell to my old home, a mosaic of my childhood memories and a weeping psalm to the identity which I left behind.