Ukraine, one year before the collapse of the Soviet Union. Fun-loving Kira is 17 and is a budding actor, something she has no trouble proving before her bedroom mirror to the strains of “Venus” by Bananarama. In an era known in Ukrainian as “Perebudova” or “remodelling”, colourful nylon stockings are all the rage, her parents’ generation is celebrating with caviar on toast and raising crystal glasses amidst not-quite-conformist paintings, and artistic types are wondering where they can get their hands on cheap dollars. Meanwhile, Kira retreats to the kitchen to investigate a plastic bag of flotsam from the West containing chewing gum, a glittery jumper and a can of Pepsi. Her life is about to take off, but her family and the country she lives in are beginning to fall apart.
Paying great attention to (lovingly reconstructed) detail and suffused by the world of objects, Tonia Noyabrova’s semi-autobiographical coming-of-age story depicts the advent of self-reliance as a farewell to the illusions of childhood. Interweaving several episodes, her film chronicles the creeping but radical transformation that is taking place. The path to independence is uncertain and sometimes painful.