Thank you, Marusya, for making this movie, How to Save a Dead Friend. I have many thoughts about it, in part because I’ve lost a friend in a semi-similar way; but first, I imagine that working on this—and sharing it with the public—must have been difficult. So what was it like and how does it feel?
Thank you! Actually, the story ate at me. It felt good to be able to talk about it and it feels good to share it. Many people have come up to me after screenings saying that they now understand a little better what certain people in their life were going through.
You know, as I was growing up I felt isolated. I didn’t know I had depression.
You narrate about this depression. About how you met Kimi during this period and how you connected over it; how many friends and people in Russia suffer(ed) from it. It seems that you, without ever plainly criticizing the government, hint that it is to blame. For example, you call Russia the “Depression Federation”, and juxtapose several scenes of celebratory government speeches with the depression/addiction happening all around you. Did I misunderstand this?
This story didn’t happen in a vacuum. Kimi had to get help, but in Russia doing drugs is criminalized and stigmatized. This leads to self-stigmatization and further self-harm, because it’s easy not to see a future for yourself in such an environment.
I am drawing parallels. The state is the aggressor. For example when Kimi has checked into the hospital to get better but almost gets worse because it’s clear that whatever he says in that place wouldn’t matter; it would either do nothing or make his situation worse. This is very Russian: The government doesn’t want people to speak up. It gives the people drugs like propaganda and creates apathy and depression. This is not new. It has always been a repressive place.
Hence the protest scenes. Which reminds me, you and/or Kimi recorded all the scenes in this movie. How come you recorded so much of your life? How did you get interested in that?
As I said I was depressed growing up. I found it hard to communicate, so maybe I filmed because it was my way of communicating with people? My parents got me a camera and that started it. And I enjoyed watching movies. I loved that movie Nowhere by Gregg Araki.
A young Marusya, camera in hand.
So much recording. So many scenes of your life to choose to put in or leave out of this movie. What was culling all that like?
Very difficult, haha! The material was so varied. I had a really great editor, Qutaiba Barhamji, who is a Syrian who has lived in Russia and speaks Russian, but who has a distance too because he is not Russian. We decided to experiment with it. We were putting all this work in and said we wouldn't want to be sorry after the end of it. The movie you watched was the 27th rough cut.
We recorded on film, Super 8, VHS. As a teen I used a camera that only let me record one minute at a time, hence the shorter scenes initially. And then after the scenes get longer, slower.
And the music? As I watched, I was thinking this is the music of their lives!
I really enjoyed picking the music. These songs formed and influenced us, or at least sounded similar to things that did.
I saw this at DOC NYC 2022. Can people see it elsewhere?
We’ve been touring for six months :). It has been at other festivals and will also be screening at IDFA (the International Documentary Festival Amsterdam) and places in Germany, France, Switzerland . . . Maybe after I will take a break!
Sounds tiring! But also worthwhile. So, in one of the scenes Kimi says something like Alexander the Great had it right because he set really lofty goals that would be tough to reach, because if you reach a goal then that’s it, there’s nothing else to do. And in another scene, when his brother Andryusha has seemingly resigned himself to death by overdose, Andryusha tells you that such an end wouldn’t be right for you, because you have a good life with good goals. I’m very curious what you think about their ideas.
You know, sometimes I would think why did I make it and not Kimi? I thought maybe during the 2013 protests that I could change something for the better. Kimi always thought he was not worth having a better life. That always made me sad—and angry.
Yeah. This was just so powerful, and I think your putting it out into the world is a good thing. I think it will help people like Kimi helped you, and like you helped him. Like when he sat by your side as a teen in a bout of depression and that gave you strength.
You end the movie in a stunning way, visually and figuratively. The buildings of North Butovo are mirrored across the horizon line to create an eternal effect; what we see is what there is, no matter the direction you look. Limitless housing blocks, but also limitless sky. Prison and freedom. Light and darkness. And the audio playing over this seems to be two letters, one from Kimi to you and one from you to Kimi. Moving even as I remember it now. Were these real, or a movie device?
In 2015 Kimi recorded a poem for me. This is what you hear. He had sent it to me on my birthday, and at the time I was touched, of course, but also pissed at him. Talking about his death like that. He did that a lot and every time I would get upset at him, but we would move past it.
Then in response, to end the movie, I wanted to reply. To give hope. Love is stronger than death.
A line from Kimi’s poem.