Written and directed by Olha Zhurba, Songs of Slow Burning Earth is a haunting and visually poetic educational documentary that explores the normalization of war through reflective observations and eyewitness accounts. It captures the psychological toll of the conflict in Ukraine while eschewing conventional narrative structures. While emotionally stirring, the documentary’s stylistic choices may not resonate with everyone.
The film opens with distressed emergency calls overlaid with serene, sweeping shots of fog rolling across lush green landscapes. The juxtaposition is immediately arresting. The sound design, particularly a pulsating score that mimics a racing heartbeat, adds a layer of urgency to the early sequences.
“Is it war?”
“Yes… it looks like it.”
There is no narrator here, and for the most part, none is needed. The film leans heavily on its stark imagery: a Kyiv train station overrun with panicked civilians, scorched homes, abandoned vehicles, and shattered cities. These visuals are enough to evoke strong emotions in any viewer. A particularly devastating scene follows an older woman mourning the loss of her home. She describes “black skeletons” where buildings once stood. Though family surrounds her, the weight of what’s been lost takes center stage.
The film also depicts the strain on interpersonal relationships during displacement, as the Ukrainian people are forced from their homes and daily lives. Frustrations boil over, not at an enemy, but at each other. It's an uncomfortable and necessary inclusion that enhances the film’s honesty.
Mariupol, once a thriving port city, is referenced only briefly but looms large in the background. The real horror is in what’s left unsaid. For media librarians or documentary film buyers, this is exactly the kind of documentary resource that will support nuanced discussion on contemporary global crises.
That said, I found some stylistic decisions grating as several shots linger far too long, pushing past poignancy into stagnation. A funeral procession, for example, is visually striking at first. But it drags on, accompanied only by windshield wipers and engine hum. For viewers unfamiliar with this aesthetic, or those seeking more structured narratives for media literacy initiatives, this could be a hurdle.
Still, Songs of Slow Burning Earth would make a strong addition to a film collection focused on current global affairs, war, trauma, or psychological resilience. It belongs on library shelves that support library programming centered on empathy, world conflict, and the human cost of political turmoil. Whether acquired through a DVD distributor or as part of a curated DVD collection, it is best paired with programming that allows time for discussion and reflection.
I would strongly recommend this film, but with a note of caution for viewers who are prone to distraction or discomfort with abstract structures. The film will leave a lasting impact and serve as a valuable asset in drawing attention to a major global issue that is still sadly ongoing.
How can Songs of Slow Burning Earth be used in global affairs and media studies courses?
Songs of Slow Burning Earth can serve as an invaluable tool in classrooms exploring global affairs, political science, conflict studies, and media analysis. Its refusal to follow a conventional documentary structure provides students with a chance to examine how form influences meaning, making it ideal for media literacy discussions. In global affairs courses, the film encourages students to think critically about how war is represented outside of official news outlets and statistics, foregrounding the human and psychological costs of conflict rather than military strategies. In media studies, instructors can use it to highlight experimental editing choices, sound design, and the ethics of war representation, prompting debate about whether abstract approaches enhance or hinder engagement with urgent real-world crises.
Why should public and academic libraries add this Russo-Ukrainian War documentary to their collections?
Public and academic libraries should consider adding Songs of Slow Burning Earth because it provides a unique, emotionally resonant perspective on the ongoing Ukraine–Russia war that complements more traditional historical and journalistic accounts. For academic libraries, it is a powerful resource that supports coursework in history, political science, psychology, and film studies, while also offering opportunities for cross-disciplinary programming. Public libraries can use the documentary to engage their communities in broader conversations about empathy, resilience, and the human cost of geopolitical conflict. Its artistic and unconventional approach may challenge some viewers, but that is precisely what makes it valuable—it opens up space for post-screening discussions, panels, and educational events that go beyond surface-level news coverage.