Oleksandr Shchur

Oleksandr Shchur. You might know the name, or maybe you just stumbled upon it while scrolling through a list of films you’ve never heard of (yet). The guy’s filmography is sort of wild, honestly. In "Bucha" (2023), he tackles some weighty stuff—think post-war trauma, shattered quiet, and those moments that just hang in the air after everything’s gone sideways. It doesn’t sugarcoat a thing, and you kinda feel every bruise, every weird silence, every little twitch of hope or fear. It’s not a popcorn flick. You finish it and, yeah, it kinda lingers. Then there’s "Date in Vegas" (2020). Total gear shift—this one’s all neon lights, impulsive decisions, and the weird way Las Vegas seems to make people lose their minds. Shchur pulls off this blend of chaos and charm; characters make dumb mistakes, laugh too loud, and get into trouble that’s both hilarious and kinda sad. It’s messy, but in a human way. "Ya, Ty, On, Ona" (2018) is just—well, it’s a whole vibe. Relationships, misunderstandings, the way people crash into each other’s lives and walk away changed. Shchur’s work here isn’t flashy, but it feels real—awkward conversations, hopeful moments, that gut-churning bit when you don’t know what comes next. So, whether he’s diving into darkness or spinning out in Vegas, Shchur’s stuff has this raw honesty. No frills, just actual emotion—sometimes sharp, sometimes funny, always a little bit messy. That’s kind of the point, right?