This is a short series of facts and statistics: In 2022, nearly 7,400 married couples filed for divorce in Lithuania. Out of those couples, 54.9% had a child under the age of 18. On Feb. 24 of that year, Russia invaded Ukraine. By the end of the year, more than 70,000 Ukrainian refugees came to Lithuania in search of shelter. For many people, these statistics may just seem like numbers, and they treat them as such. Yet, this train of thought fails to recognize that these numbers are reflections of actual human beings. In order to humanize these statistics, director Andrius Blaževičius (“Runner”) takes a simple approach: explore the story behind them.
The premise for “How to Divorce During the War” is aptly described in its title. While waiting in the car for their daughter’s violin practice to end, the branch head of an online entertainment company, Marija (Žygimantė Elena Jakštaitė, “Renovation”), asks for a divorce from Vytas (Marius Repšys, “The Saint”), her out-of-work filmmaker husband. The ensuing car ride and the rest of the night is painfully awkward for this Lithuanian couple, mainly due to their struggle to inform their daughter. The morning after, though, they turn on their phones and television to be met with the news that Russia invaded Ukraine, starting a full-scale war. What follows is an intimate exploration of the divorced spouses navigating through this new world — one without a spouse, one with a neighboring country at war.
Both Marija and Vytas respond to these changes in their own ways. In regards to their personal life, Vytas retreats to his parents’ home in order to complete his screenplay, whilst Marija parties at a rave with her new partner. They also respond to the conflict of their neighboring countries: Vytas works at a food bank while participating in artful protests, and Marija welcomes in a family of refugees to fill her empty home. Yet, they also find themselves in circumstances beyond their control — circumstances that go against their values; Vytas’ parents find themselves consuming Russian propaganda and Marija’s company refuses to pull their investments out of Russia. Their mirrored responses coalesce in Dovilė (Amelija Adomaitytė, debut), their daughter, who finds herself, like her parents, affected by both the divorce and the war.
As a film about the war, Blaževičius uses a fascinating approach. One would typically expect explicit footage of the war, scenes of a battleground, POVs of soldiers — but Blaževičius doesn’t use such scenes. The most we see of the war is the news footage on the living room TV or the vivid descriptions one character creates when talking about it. The war, essentially, takes a backseat. Even in this case, the war doesn’t end up being a backdrop, cherry-picked to serve the narrative. The conflict, despite having no visual presence, has an active role for these characters, directly and indirectly affecting their lives, like in their respective professions. Still, though, the film is very much not a reflection of war itself. It’s slow and methodical, composed of static shots. At its core, it is instead a reflection of the humans living through it.
When this war ends, it will, more likely than not, be memorialized in cinema through the war film genre: explicit action detailing the accounts of the soldiers who fought in the battlegrounds. Such was the case for pretty much every war in human history. But something that goes unheard are the lives outside of the battlefield. Although less directly, war still makes waves that influence the common civilian. This is exactly what “How to Divorce During the War” depicts. It is not a film about the conflict, but rather about living through it. Perhaps this is an approach that should be explored — stories about living through an event, rather than the event itself. In the case of war, human emotions hit harder than any bullet would.
Daily Arts Writer JC Rafal can be reached at rafaljc@umich.edu.
