A House Made of Splinters

I had to push myself to keep watching A House Made of Splinters, not because it was bad - it wasn't. It was because it was so heart breaking. Regardless of this being set in a Ukraine children's home, I think this documentary is universal as there are children going through this all over the world. Drug addict, alcoholic and abusive parents who don't give a damn about their children is something that is unfortunately wide spread across the world, it happens even in your own suburb probably.

It was hard to watch these beautiful children going through such sadness. I would hate to know what they are thinking in their delicate minds, how unloved they were feeling, how abandoned they were.

The staff of the home appear to do their best for them, but their hands are tied. They can't control useless parents.

I think this documentary is a must watch for any parent.

I hope that all these children featured are safe and having better lives.

It's patently unfair that anyone of a tender young age should have to endure the pain of life's hardships. Growing up can be challenging enough in itself, but, when it's compounded by such difficulties as parental abandonment, abuse, the death of loved ones and war, one can't help but wonder how the children saddled with these ordeals are able to survive. Thankfully, there are individuals and organizations that are willing to step in and offer support. Such is the case with a special shelter in eastern Ukraine, located not far from the front lines of the Donbass conflict, designed to care for youngsters awaiting court and government agency decisions regarding their fates. It's a place of both hope and sorrow but, most importantly, a wellspring of compassion to help see them through these trying times. Director Simon Lereng Wilmont's Oscar-nominated documentary takes a candid, probing look at life in the facility, told through the eyes of residents and staff. This heart-tugging chronicle captures the joy of success stories and the sadness of those whose suffering never seems to end, as well as the courage of others who manage to soldier on in the face of their circumstances. It also depicts the keen sense of realism that the shelter's residents develop at incredibly young ages, an awareness of the world that they shouldn't have to face so early on in life. Their understanding of these circumstances ultimately either helps them cope with their conditions or sends them down paths from which recovery is nearly impossible, despite whatever guidance they receive from their caregivers. No matter which direction their lives may take, however, viewers can't help but be moved by their stories, an expertly developed and eloquently nuanced aspect of the film that comes through loud and clear. Ideally, the film would have been stronger with a little more background about the facility itself - how it was established, how it's funded, what drew the staff members to it - but, considering the essential nature of its mission, some might contend that such information is incidental by comparison. In addition, for those wondering about the impact of the Russian-Ukrainian war, it should be noted that this production was filmed before the start of the onslaught, but an update on the residents' status is provided before the closing credits. It's indeed tragic that this current conflict has only added to the already-existing list of trials and tribulations affecting these children, but, as the film observes, of all the virtues and vices present in our existence, hope is the last one to die, a sentiment that aptly reflects what this remarkable refuge is all about, no matter how difficult things may get.

A House Made of Splinters is a documentary by Simon Lereng Wilmont, an Oscar-nominated filmmaker who spent a year filming four children living in a shelter for abused and neglected kids in Ukraine. The film shows their daily struggles, hopes and fears as they face the threat of being sent to a state orphanage or being caught up in the ongoing war.

The film is not a conventional documentary that provides facts and context. Instead, it focuses on the intimate and personal stories of the children, who range from 6 to 14 years old. They are Marharyta, a shy girl who loves animals; Anjelika, a rebellious teenager who dreams of becoming a singer; Olga, a cheerful girl who suffers from epilepsy; and Sasha, a boy who has been traumatized by his abusive father.

The film does not shy away from showing the harsh realities of their lives, such as poverty, violence, addiction and corruption. It also captures their moments of joy, friendship and resilience. The film is shot with a handheld camera that follows them closely, creating a sense of intimacy and empathy. The film also uses natural sound and music to create a contrast between the bleakness of their situation and their inner world.

A House Made of Splinters is a powerful and poignant documentary that exposes the plight of millions of children in Ukraine and beyond. It is also a testament to their courage and humanity. It is one of the best documentaries of the year and deserves to be seen by everyone.

A very touching film about children in a shelter. You get to follow some children during they stay, wich can be no more than 9 months.

I liked the film very much and was touched by it. It would have been the same even in different times, but now when Russia has attacked Ukraine 10 days ago and so many suffer badly. Those children don't have an easy life and now also the war. Do they have food, water and heating? Are they still alive? Those thoughts came to me when watching. It's such a cruel war. All wars are cruel, of course.

Thank you for this wonderful portrait of the children!

This is quite a touching documentary that follows the lives of some young children who are not orphaned in the traditional sense, but who are subject to ongoing legal proceedings relating to their parents and guardians. For many of these boisterous and confused youngsters, this large hostel is the safest place for them to be - but with many very young and unsettled, the task for the facility's administrators is very much eggshell treading territory. It's set in Ukraine - before Russia invaded, but it could actually quite readily relocate to many places around the world where the traditional family units have long stopped functioning effectively - either as a result of neglect, or tragedy, or just parents who cannot cope with children with special requirements or behavioural difficulties. This institution is not a permanent solution, and as we are introduced to the kids we appreciate that their futures are all pretty fluid. Another orphanage? Adoption? Can siblings stay together? "I just want to go home" is a phrase oft said by boys and girls alike as they struggle to navigate this unwelcome uncertainty. The downside of productions like this, though, is keeping the camera in it's proper (discrete) place. Here, that doesn't really work and frequently the actions and reactions look just a bit too staged. How are you expected to get a genuine reaction from an eight year old when there's a camera crew adjacent? There are scenes of intimacy at which we simply do not belong, let alone need a front row seat for. The skill from the director requires us to see enough, but not everything - and to know when to call an halt to the intrusion of our observations. That skill isn't so evident here. There are some fairly characterful children though, and their professional carers really epitomise just how difficult it is to house and rehouse these lively and rudderless individuals when there is constant pressure on funds, space, time and on themselves. It's certainly worth a watch, but it could have benefitted more from some editorial subtlety and a more judicious sense of what we ought to have seen.