Ukraine's Gold

Long before Boris Johnson rocked up in Kiev in a flak jacket in a desperate bid to save his premiership, British-Ukrainian relations had already come a long way. A legendary Kozak leader by the name of Pavlo Polubotok’s gold – supposedly hidden in the Bank of England – makes for the titular treasure in Tony Leliw’s Ukraine’s Gold, a plucky, lower-budget short comedy drama that celebrates Ukrainian spirit and culture.

Rumours of the gold reach the ears of Mykola (David Freisener) and Stepan (Ruslan Barenboym), two London builders with connections to Ukraine. When the pair are asked to work on the Bank of England, they come up with a plan to attain the treasure – if it does indeed exist. When the legend becomes reality, they are confronted with a choice between their own interests and that of their home – until they realise that one can become the same.

Ukraine’s Gold is a light-hearted and affable exploration of Ukrainian myth mixed with the nation’s modern struggle against Russian aggression. An original story, it uses the myth of Polubotok’s gold to raise questions around nobility, selflessness, rights and wrongs, and connection to home – all of which have relevance to the current conflict. In presenting the two leads with moral uncertainty, the film is able to ruminate on the severity of conflict and the difficulty in keeping communities together. It is clear from the outcome that the filmmakers have admiration for Ukraine in that this has largely been maintained throughout the war – making the film a tribute to national spirit.

The film was made on a lower budget, which is evident from some of the production. Sound design and mixing is poor, with varied quality of voice recording noticeable and distracting through a number of key scenes. There are also moments in which the film halts to a stop to present scrolling text over a static background, in quite a jarring and distracting manner. Whilst some rough edges are forgivable for smaller projects, these feel quite ill-thought out and avoidable, and do detract somewhat from the immersion of the story.

David Freisener’s performance as Mykola is a highlight, entertainingly capturing a sense of moral ambiguity and ethically questionable motives for a man who wants to appear to take pride in his heritage. The justification for his own intentions for the riches the gold would bring is one of the film’s most amusing moments and stems largely from his brilliant ability to highlight the hypocrisy of affluent Londoners. Ruslan Barenboym similarly impresses as Stepan, though acting in more of a straight man role. He ends as the film’s heart.

Ukraine’s Gold is no technical masterpiece and has more than its fair share of flaws. However, this original little film has a lot of heart and admirable aims – as well as an ability to raise a few laughs. This tribute to Ukraine, its people and its history is enjoyable, and it is clear that Tony Leliw’s assertion of its necessity is on the money.