HEDGEHOG | Omeleto

A young Ukrainian girl discovers a wounded Russian soldier. HEDGEHOG is used with permission from D. Mitry. Learn more at . A war with Russia has started in Ukraine, and to keep their young daughter Nina safe, her parents send their little girl to her grandma’s house before they go off to fight in the conflict. The grandmother’s house is hidden away in a rural forest area. Though it is safe, Nina is lonely and misses her parents very much, especially during such uncertain, dangerous times. But soon she encounters a badly wounded Russian soldier named Yura hidden in a shack outside. Too young to understand hatred, Nina develops a tentative friendship with the soldier -- but the enmity of war manages to find its way to even this most quiet of places. Directed and written by D. Mitry, this powerful and lyrical short drama offers a different perspective on war, looking at it from the perspective of the most innocent and powerless of those affected. Many war films rely on a broad canvas of scale to resonate, but through the eyes of 6-year-old Nina, we experience an intimate, emotional narrative scale in the storytelling, one that reminds us of the importance of shared humanity, especially for ordinary people caught in the crosshairs of armed conflict. Told from Nina’s point of view, the narrative opens with the young girl being dropped off in the countryside by her parents, who have enlisted in the war. Left to her own devices, she spends time wandering in the house and on her grandmother’s property. The visuals have a certain lovely, almost faded gentleness, heightened by the countryside setting and endowing the film with a timeless, almost fable-like dimension. The storytelling at first captures the delicate, quiet textures of Nina’s new life: there is little dialogue, but the poetic images and evocative music are eloquent with sorrow and loneliness. The pacing quickens, however, when Nina encounters a badly wounded Russian soldier hiding in a shack on her grandmother’s property. Nina is frightened at first, but over time, the lonely girl continues to visit Yura, the soldier, and they develop a rapport, one that is fragile at first, but then grows into something more sincere. As Nina, young actor Emma Pearson is natural and captivating, even with little dialogue. Her performance distills the innate vulnerability of a young child caught up in the chaos of wartime, but one also still able to lose herself in the small wonders of the world around her. Yet even this almost pastoral sense of innocence is not impervious to the conflicts of war, and when the soldier’s presence is discovered, she finds herself caught in the middle. Beautifully crafted and sincere in its insistence on humanity, HEDGEHOG stays true to the fundamental innocence and goodness of its main character’s viewpoint to the end, even as the adult realities of politics and war intrude. It also reminds us that even in the machinery of war and violence, compassion and empathy are more important than ever, especially for the children growing up in the shadow of conflict. War may be unavoidable, but without compassion, what is most worthy and good about humankind won’t truly survive.