Making its online premiere on DN today, Gregory Shell’s Fire is a stark and evocative exploration of trauma, possessive desire, and the detrimental lingering effects of violence. An early student project at the Moscow School of New Cinema, Shell felt compelled to radically rework the short when war broke out in Europe despite it being well on its way through the finishing touches of post production. What followed were reshoots of parts of the film and a tricky re-editing in order to better capture the shifted realities of the world as it now stood. Central to the film’s power is the performance of non-professional actor Ignat Dvoinikov, whose raw and unfiltered portrayal of Vasya, a young man struggling to reintegrate into civilian life after returning from military service to discover the girl he loves is now with someone else, brings an unsettling authenticity to the story. We invited Shell to speak to us about the sweet spot of finding cast members who could convey reality rather than perform a facsimile of it, working closely with his crew to find solutions to creative hurdles and why he’ll always buy his characters’ wardrobe from now on.
Where did the original inspiration for this dark story of trauma and violence come from?
I started planning the short film Fire back in my first year at the Moscow School of New Cinema. I worked on the script with my mentor, Dmitry Mamuliya. I think I was inspired by Accattone by Pier Paolo Pasolini at the time but I also wanted to bring my background in music videos and fashion into the film, so a lot of the visual references came from the glossy industry.
We were in the final stage of post-production when the war started in Europe in February 2022. It immediately became clear that we had to rework the film. For a while, I just didn’t have the energy to do anything. Then I rewrote parts of the script, we shot an additional scene, and what was originally a course project turned into my graduation film. I’ve always been open to changes and suggestions. If you compare the script I wrote under my mentor Maria Ignatenko’s guidance with the actual shooting script, they’re about 30-40% different. For example, the character of the protagonist’s deaf-mute sister wasn’t in the original script; our cinematographer, Yan Yasinsky, came up with her just before the shoot. So I’d say Yan wasn’t just an amazing DOP but also a co-author of the film.
What was it about that nearly completed first version of Fire that made it feel unviable once the war broke out?
I’d put it this way: when the war started, reality changed. It’s hard to define it more precisely. We just woke up in a different world. The physical world around us hadn’t changed much, but meanings and values had shifted. Every new step required reevaluation.
I was looking for people who wouldn’t perform in front of the camera but rather transmit reality. We found such a guy and cast him in the lead role.
When it came to fitting these roles to a cast of non-professional actors, what were you looking for and how did you find the right people during the casting process?
I started the process way too late, and since we had no money, we were still searching for some actors just three days before shooting. Thankfully, we had amazing casting directors. My former classmate Irena Ugolnikova, now a successful casting director, actually only works with professional actors. She helped me a lot in finding Vasya’s mother, for example. Our lead actor was recommended to me by Nastya Weber, who let us cast Ignat Dvoinikov, the star of her Berlinale-winning film. But Anya and the St. Petersburg-based agency TRAP also work with non-actors, which was essential for me on this project. The key difference between a non-actor and a bad or mediocre actor is that non-actors don’t act. I was looking for people who wouldn’t perform in front of the camera but rather transmit reality. We found such a guy and cast him in the lead role.
Most Popular
As a student project which then had to be retooled to be your graduate film, were there any particular problems you found yourself having to contend with?
Once we started developing the project we had zero budget so we had to find everything – locations, costumes, makeup, even some of the equipment – for free. For instance, the protagonist’s apartment was actually my high school friend’s grandmother’s place, which happened to be empty because it was up for sale. Some scenes were shot guerrilla-style, like the ones on the train tracks and inside the train car, we just showed up with a small crew and started filming. But most locations were officially approved. The office scene, for example, was shot in the former Greenpeace office. My sister used to work there so I managed to get us in for free.
Same with art direction. Since we didn’t have a production designer, we decorated the apartment ourselves: me, DOP Yan Yasinsky, and my friend (and at the time, our admin and line producer) Sergey Starkov. In terms of equipment, we kept it super minimal. Yan, being a top-tier commercial cinematographer, had some of his own gear, like a grip truck, but we had to rent a few things. Our camera setup was the ‘indie classic’ Blackmagic 6K Pro and Zeiss Super Speed Mk2 lenses. All our lighting was either practical or natural light from windows.
Costumes came from a vintage shop, OKNOSTORE but that led to a big problem. After returning the outfits post-shoot, we later needed to do reshoots, and of course, the original pieces had already been sold. That was a major lesson: always buy the costumes! Another big lesson was sound. I made the mistake of relying on ‘free’ sound recordists, and they completely messed up several shooting days. In the end, we had to re-record about 60% of the dialogue, and my incredible sound supervisor, Mendoza Perez Omar Enrique, had to work miracles to make the sound.
What’s important is the atmosphere – the air was filled with raw teenage aggression and drunken sex. That’s what I wanted to capture through visuals and sound.
You’ve said that you grew up in a district like this. As an insider, what did you want to convey about life for people there?
To be honest, this is just an ordinary residential district of Moscow. There’s nothing particularly special about it. Back in our school days, we used to hang out in stairwells or by the ponds in big groups, drinking beer and smoking weed. Nothing extraordinary happened in those moments. But what’s important is the atmosphere – the air was filled with raw teenage aggression and drunken sex. That’s what I wanted to capture through visuals and sound.
Much of Ignat Dvoinikov’s performance as Vasya is about providing a view into his internal state of roiling emotions, which he’s mostly trying to keep hidden from others. How did the two of you find the correct balance of nuance for this role?
In reality, Ignat doesn’t ‘perform’ anything. I’d say he’s like a person who’s had his skin stripped away – he’s always like that. And the most important thing he possesses is the ability to ignore the camera. My main task was to ensure that he didn’t start ‘acting’, that no falseness crept into the frame. For example, when we shot the long take with the gun – a precise replica of a real firearm – we rehearsed the scene physically for quite a while, without the prop, because I knew we would only get one perfect take: the very first one. And that’s exactly what happened. The first time Ignat held the gun, his eyes literally lit up. You can see that moment in the film.
That penultimate scene between Vasya and Sasha shocked me to my core. Did you have any reservations about ending the film in such a violent, horrifying way?
Times like these produce films like these. I’m sorry, but I have nothing to add.
I’d say he’s like a person who’s had his skin stripped away – he’s always like that. And the most important thing he possesses is the ability to ignore the camera.
Related, could you break down the considerations that went into constructing it?
Originally, this scene was constructed completely differently in the script and it didn’t work at all in the edit – just like the film’s ending as a whole. I did the first edit myself under the guidance of my mentors, Maria Ignatenko and Andrey Klychnikov. The key decision came from guest editor Natalya Belova and post-production supervisor Nastya Weber: the voiceover from Masha. Nastya recorded it herself on her phone and Natalya inserted it into the cut. I remember how it burned through me – almost to tears. It sounded like a mother’s voice: “Vasya, Vasya, hey… wake up, what are you doing?” That was the moment I realized the film had come together. Although, to make it festival-friendly, I had to cut it down later from 28 to 25 minutes.
Did Natalya’s work on the edit bring with it any other significant changes to the structure and flow of Fire?
I feel like I just answered that. But I’ll add this: honestly, I don’t understand how people edit their own films. It’s the worst decision you could make. If you want to do right by your film, find an editor you trust, hand it over, and don’t regret a thing.
As a successful commercial and fashion photographer with over 16 years of experience, what prompted your decision to study at the Moscow School of New Cinema? What attracted you to study there in particular?
There’s no real difference between photography and cinema. In some ways, cinema is a natural extension of photography. That’s another story altogether. As for me, I just realized it was time to grow and evolve. I started searching, exploring different film schools. In the end, I’m happy I chose the Moscow School of New Cinema. They teach students how to see reality and express it through media. I think that’s what defines you as an artist.
