HALF UKRANIAN HALF IRANIAN DOCUMENTARY DIRECTOR ROSS BOLIDAI GIVES US A PEEK AT HIS LIFE THROUGH THE LENS OF A REFUGEE COMING TO LONDON IN 1997.

We caught up with Visionaries Director Ross Bolidai whose unique background has very much informed his observers eye. Ross is half Ukrainian and half Iranian, growing up in Crimea, and notes that his mixed-race heritage is one of the most  important factors in shaping his interest in people. The current Ukrainian situation is something that has been as impactful on Ross as it has been to an audience not directly affected, although Ross knows the streets and districts that have been affected by the Russian occupation well. 

Ross came over to the UK as a refugee aged 8 to reunite with his father, who was deported from Crimea during the collapse of the USSR. He learnt English from the TV, acclimatising to UK culture which arrived mainly in the form of Only Fools and Horses…


Can you tell us how you came to be in England as a refugee, and how that shaped your worldview in general? 

I felt like a bit of an outsider growing up. My parents met at university and had me quite young. My dad fled from Iran during the Islamic Revolution of 1979 to study in the USSR. Things changed just after I was born, the USSR collapsed in 1991 and we found ourselves in a new country, Ukraine. His right to remain was invalid for Ukraine, so he had to leave the country. 

My perception of my own identity has kept changing throughout the years. Growing up in Crimea I identified as Ukranian, living with mum, my grandparents, my aunt and my cousin who were all native Ukranians. But I was also the only mixed race kid in my school, while the post-iron curtain environment created a culture that was distrustful of foreign influence and valued cultural homogeneity, so I never felt entirely Ukrainian enough.  

In 1997 I came to the UK to reconnect with my dad, who had received refugee status that year. London was a complete culture shock, the language barrier was certainly a challenge. My dad spoke a bit of Russian, a bit of English but mostly Persian, and had embedded himself in the community here. I then only spoke Russian (I grew up in Russian speaking Crimea), I had no cultural connection to Iran, I’d only known my dad for a few months at that point so I didn’t feel like I could fit into that group either. 

I think that vacuum of identity in my formative years is what shaped my interest in people. In a way, I think filmmaking has become a form of sisyphean endeavor to place myself within this world.


What helped you overcome any disadvantages that came with that challenging stage in your life? 

I couldn’t go to school in the first year that I was in the UK due to my immigration status, so I spent the year learning English mostly by watching Hollywood movies and a whole lot of Only Fools and Horses. 

My dad must have felt nervous that I was missing out on education and wasting my time watching tv, so I was only allowed to watch documentaries from that point on. National Geographic and Discovery type stuff. By the end of the year I was fluent in English and had formed an innate bond to documentary as a medium. 


Do you feel that those experiences in particular have shaped or impacted your worldview as a director and artist, and the way that you see storytelling?

I do think they’ve had a major impact on how I approach telling stories. I like to work with collaborators and contributors who feel like outsiders themselves, and together we go on a journey. Oftentimes it’s just as much about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, building trust, and making sure that your contributors have the aftercare that they need after the piece has gone out. I like to stay in touch with every contributor I’ve worked with and I think it’s important that as a filmmaker you’re seen as a constant presence, not someone that just dives in, tells the story and disappears. 


Ross, you’ve had quite a unique journey into becoming a director. When did you first decide it was something you wanted to pursue?

Growing up, my worldview, and it sounds strange to say, was shaped by American cinema. I was born just after the collapse of the iron curtain. Hollywood movies were seen as contraband until this moment, but then the floodgates opened. Suddenly society had this newfound obsession with Hollywood. We fell in love with its honesty, seeing abject poverty and rampant capitalism, glorious violence, reflections of society, warts and all. At a time where most couldn’t travel abroad, Cinema was the only keyhole to the west.

I remember first telling my nan that I wanted to make films when I was about seven. Her response was “and I want to go to the moon, pick something realistic”. 

To aspire to be a filmmaker in 90s Ukraine was a laughable thought, and understandably so. We were dealing with the fall of communism, rampant corruption, food shortages, real poverty all around us. People did what they could just to get by.

When I found myself in the UK several years later, I figured well, everyone told me that I wouldn’t get to London but here I am, so let’s give filmmaking a go. My nan still begs me to get a real job. 


What do you feel are the advantages and disadvantages of documentary filmmaking? 

I think the biggest advantage is that it’s cheap to create a proof of concept, you just need a good idea. There’s something incredibly satisfying about going with the flow and following an unfolding story and immersing yourself in a world for an extended period of time. You get to meet brilliant people, doing interesting things in new places. There’s something really interesting about the offline edit process in documentary, and the collaborative process that ensues. The sheer volume of abstract knowledge you get to carry around for the rest of your life. 

But it’s not all rainbows, it can be frustrating, you’ll write a story, then re-write it, then re-write it again, unforeseen things happen, characters go missing or decide they don’t want to be in the film any more. It can take a really long time, and it can be lonely. Sometimes you’ll spend months away from your friends and family waiting for something to unfold. 


Do you have any advice for aspiring filmmakers with regards to telling authentic and personal stories? 

As a new filmmaker, your greatest strength is your point of view. At first focus on stories that you’re close to. Immerse yourself in these worlds, don’t just be an observer but become a participant. 

Figure out your story, write the film in acts before you pick up the camera. Don’t worry, you’ll re-write it over and over as you’re making the film, but you need to have a vision before you begin. That vision can and will change, and for me that’s the most important part of the creative process. Plan your film in acts, learn to shoot in scenes. Spend time with your contributors, share your own vulnerabilities and always think about the duty of care that you have towards them. 



As someone who has a unique cultural background, do you feel that diversity in the industry is put into action as much as it is discussed?

The industry is changing, but to me, it all feels a little bit reactive. Within production companies and agencies, there’s been a solid drive in bringing in new diverse talent into junior positions, but we haven’t reached a point where we’ve seen companies nurture and retain diverse talent so that they reach leadership positions, so there’s much more work to be done. Having said that, there are some effective diversity focussed organisations out there such as Film London’s Equal Access Network & Dandi. I was part of Film London’s diversity leadership programme called Breaking the Glass Ceiling, which I couldn’t recommend more. BAFTA and the BFI have put a great deal of work into increasing diversity and representation which is promising. But we need to keep up the work. 


Do you feel like there are misconceptions about filmmaking, and especially documentaries? 

People often forget about how much writing and pre-production is involved. You need a strong point of view and an opinion, and you need to be precise. Documentary isn’t about filming everything, it’s just as much about what you chose to leave out of your frame. 



Are there any particular documentaries (older or newer) that you would put on a ‘recommended watch’ list? 

  • Serbian Epics by Pavel Pavlikovsky

  • Japan, A Story of Love and Hate by Sean McAllister

  • Waltz with Bashir by Ari Folman

  • Off the Rails by Adam Irving

  • Minding the Gap by Bing Liu

  • The Paedophile Hunter by Dan Reed

  • The Romanians are Coming by James Bluemel


Are you naturally more drawn to briefs that you can connect to on a personal level?

100%. The absolute first thing I look for is a connection. Do I have experience of that world? Do I have something to say about it? Is this my story to tell? If you don’t, what’s the point?

 

How do you feel about the situation in Ukraine?

Two months into the invasion I’m still in a state of shock. Culturally, it’s very convoluted. I grew up in the Crimea, a Russian speaking part of the Ukraine. But I identify as Ukrainian, and I consume western media. I visited Crimea shortly after Russia’s 2014 invasion and was surprised at the level of support for the Russian occupation by my former school friends. 

In a way, it almost felt like the Brexit protest vote that we witnessed in 2016. Putin occupied Crimea, increased salaries and pensions and held a referendum. Most of my school mates now have Russian citizenship and this is where things get tough, because they’re fully plugged into the propaganda machine. It’s become almost impossible to have a conversation and that’s a real shame. 


Are there any particular characteristics or qualities that you feel are important in a film for keeping the audience engaged? 

Personally, I really like the depth that a flawed lead character can bring to a narrative. I love to work with characters that as an audience you first dislike, then understand, then forgive and embrace. To me that’s the essence of filmmaking. 

 Click here to see some of Ross’ work.