DFF Interview Series Vol. 2 Rotation: Maryna Er Gorbach | When Everyday Life Is Replaced by Military Duty

DFF Interview Series Vol. 2 Rotation: Maryna Er Gorbach | When Everyday Life Is Replaced by Military Duty

The Displacement Film Fund (DFF) was announced as a pilot initiative at the International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) in 2025. The fund supports five filmmakers who have been forcibly displaced or whose work engages with that experience, providing each with 100,000 euros to produce a short film, along with the opportunity to premiere at IFFR. UNIQLO is among the founding partners.

On January 30, 2026, the five short films supported by the fund had their world premieres at IFFR marking the fund's first concrete results. The day after the premiere, those involved shared their reflections on the solidarity these films created and the possibilities this new fund represents. In the second installment of this series, Maryna El Gorbach, director of the short film Rotation, which explores the experiences of Ukrainian soldiers, reflects on her experience with the Displacement Film Fund.

The Displacement Film Fund asked you to complete a film in just six months. Looking back, what was that experience like?

For me, it was a very good chance to jump straight into creation without any pre-production. When the call came from the Hubert Bals Fund, I immediately had the idea of working with displacement as a theme-the displacement of normality. But of course, to come up with a clear concept for what would actually be on screen, I needed to go to Ukraine and meet with the reality again. Everything moved very fast, but at the same time it was a chance to align my artistic needs for that period with my vision and the proposed theme, and to be urgent not only in production, but in cinematographic language. And that's also where the idea of shooting on 35mm negative came from.

You ended up using Ukrainian-made Svema film stock?

Yes. I started thinking there must be a last stock of negative film produced in Ukraine - Svema, made in Shostka, a city that's been under constant bombardment. The factory has stopped production and the facility has been destroyed. That film stock was sitting in a shelter somewhere, and it could just disappear into dust. And I thought, this project could give that physical material new value and give it new value as a work of art. I was completely fine with having scratches and physical damage on the film, because it actually worked with the theme. We were talking about emotional scratches, about the replacement of civilian life by military duty.

Was there a moment during the process that stayed with you more than you expected?

Shooting in Ukraine right now is not easy, because of security and safety. Shooting at night wasn't possible. Collaborating with filmmakers there is also difficult during wartime, many of them can't leave the country because of military obligations, especially men. What was really, really important to me was bringing art back into their lives. Even for just three or four days of production, to briefly return to a reality from before the war to have everyone together. And yes, it was surreal. During pre-production in Kyiv, we could hear the bombing at night, and then in the morning everyone grabbed their coffee, got in a minibus, and went to set. Very surreal. But when we were all there together, when we got a perfect take, when we understood that we had realized the artistic vision and there was real joy in that.

After completing the film, did anything shift for you in how you think about the fund or the theme of displacement?

Of course. After 2020, I had a very successful film-it's been released in Japan as well-which was about the beginning of the war, even though it wasn't widely discussed in the media at that time. It was also connected to the MH17 catastrophe, so it had a direct relationship with the Netherlands. And I had this feeling that everything I had imagined, everything I had been afraid of, had actually happened. I didn't know what I could do as an artist, or how to emotionally process all the horrible things happening every day. At some point, I felt that whatever I made wouldn't be enough to make a difference. That was when I needed to really reconsider the place of art in my life and how it affects my existence. One day I was walking in the forest, thinking about another project that was going to be released in five years. I had this filter in my mind: what will the world look like in five years? Are we in a global war? Have digital technologies taken over? Do human values still exist? What do words like democracy, humanity, and peace even mean for someone like me, who lives with the reality of war every day, even when I'm not physically in Ukraine? And then I got the call from the Hubert Bals Fund: make what you feel, and it'll be released in six months. That changed my usual way of thinking. When you work on a feature, you have to become a person from the future to get it right. This was the first time I didn't have to.

With so much uncertainty, how do you think film can respond to the world right now?

I sometimes describe what's happening now as a new emotional reality-a new emotional flow for people who were civilians and have become soldiers or taken on military roles. Including myself as an observer. Imagine facing a test every single day while at the same time confronting the infinity of this world. That's what I was trying to capture: their feelings, and how to bring those feelings into cinema and then to the viewer. That was my focus. I wasn't afraid of not being clear enough for the audience. I wanted them to feel it, not understand it. And I was glad that nobody pushed me to be more accessible. I was free to make what I wanted to make. After we finished the cut, I did a test screening and called filmmaker friends to ask what they saw in the film because there are so many things we didn't show, but that exist in the experience of the characters. Each of them had their own storyline connected to their own memories. I believe our duty right now is to protect emotions-human emotions. Not just positive ones. Human emotions span the full spectrum, and we should be allowed to feel all of them. If you try to suppress any of them, they'll only explode.

What does "home" mean to you?

Right now, in this moment, my mom is in Ukraine, and I'm always thinking about her safety, so for me, home is her kitchen. Where we can sit and talk, and have her cookies and tea. But it's also the place where I'm building my life with my family. The place my kids go to school-that's home too, even if we're in a different city because of work. And home is a place where I can invite my friends. It's not really tied to a specific place, it can be anywhere. But I belong to home. I have a home where I know the color of the walls. And even when I'm away from it, wherever we're living is also home.

What stories do you feel most responsible for telling right now?

It's a very difficult question-in a way, it's always a question from the future. Looking at where we are now, in every field, in digital, in media, in world politics, we can already see that five years ago there were stories we missed that are now hugely relevant. So it's always about imagining what can happen in the future and what you can make now that will at least still matter then. For me, helping people feel the full range of their emotions, respecting those emotions, and finding the right cinematic language to make friends with those feelings-that's what I think is most important right now. Because I believe we're moving toward a time when people in different countries may start to identify themselves not by nationality or belonging, but at a more fundamental level-as human beings beyond where we come from. And I mean that in terms of feeling. You can call yourself human because you have all the right feelings. Not because you're perfect or a good person, but because you're capable of feeling everything. I want to bring as many people as possible into that shared sense of being human. That feels extremely important.

How was the world premiere on January 30th?

It was very warm. Very unexpected. We hadn't seen the other filmmakers' work, we only knew the concepts from the press releases. But it was so interesting to see how therapeutic the experience was, I think for each filmmaker. The screening and the films were very honest, very personal. We didn't have time to cover ourselves, we just had time to respond to the proposition to make a film. And that's why they came out so directly, so from the heart. At least, that's what I felt. And before the screening, we had press activities, and journalists kept coming up to us wanting to talk about our films but we hadn't seen them yet. So we were like, what are you talking about? It was really something.

What do you think becomes visible when all five films are seen together?

Of course, I made mine as a finished, standalone short because that's what I was asked to make. But when you watch all five together, I think it gives you an extra layer, a kind of overarching sense that operates on a whole other level of world perspective. I really hope that this project continues to live both separately for each film and all together, because it has this quality of cooperation and solidarity even though we hadn't seen each other's films. In the end that sense of unity is there. And they don't try to overwhelm you. They try to share a very personal experience. I really loved the tone of voice.


Maryna Er Gorbach

Ukrainian filmmaker working as writer, director, producer, and editor. Her film Klondike (2022), set near the Russian border and depicting a pregnant woman's life against the backdrop of the MH17 disaster in July 2014, won the Directing Award in World Cinema Dramatic Competition at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival. The film has been released in Japan.

PEACE FOR ALL × Displacement Film Fund Collaboration

A collaborative T-shirt created by UNIQLO's charity T-shirt project PEACE FOR ALL and the Displacement Film Fund is available starting Friday, June 19, 2026. The design draws on words about "peace" contributed by the five filmmakers supported by the fund, expressing through design the vision of using the power of cinema to bring the voices of displaced people to the world. Proceeds from this T-shirt will be donated to the Displacement Film Fund.

About the Displacement Film Fund

The Displacement Film Fund was established to support and fund the work of filmmakers who have been forcibly displaced, or who have a track record of telling stories about displacement. Co-created and led by UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador Cate Blanchett, the Fund was announced at the 54th International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) in 2025, with MASTER MIND, UNIQLO, Droom en Daad, the Tamer Family Foundation, and the Amahoro Coalition as founding partners. The Hubert Bals Fund serves as operating partner, and UNHCR as strategic partner. At the 55th IFFR, Aarti Lohia and the SP Lohia Foundation were announced as new major partners, having pledged their support to the fund following the success of its pilot year.

For more information:
https://www.uniqlo.com/us/en/special-feature/sustainability/displacement-film-fund