SFF Interview with Ion Gnautic: “Electing Ms Santa” Is a Lesson for Us All

Following its screening on August 17 as part of the Documentary Competition at the Sarajevo Film Festival, Electing Ms Santa has become one of the films generating particular interest and discussion around the festival.

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The reason is not simply the exotic setting of a Moldovan village, but also the extraordinary dedication of director Raisa Razmerita, who followed her protagonist, Elena, for a full seven years.

Elena, 42, is a woman living several lives at once: she is a farmer, a daughter caring for her 72-year-old mother, Ana, and an activist who has spent decades volunteering in a Santa Claus costume to help the most vulnerable members of her community. The starting point for our conversation was one of the major turning points in her life, captured on camera — the moment when she decides to run for mayor. Yet what makes this film truly special is not the outcome of the election, but Elena’s eventual realization that real change does not come with a title, but with inner peace.

Although the festival competition is still underway, Elena’s decision to walk away from political office in order to remain true to her original calling stands out as one of the most powerful human moments of this year’s festival.

We spoke with Ion Gnautic, the film’s director of photography and producer, about the challenges of filming, the balance between the mathematics of production and pure emotion, and how, after seven years, the camera became an invisible member of a Moldovan family.

Given that you entered Elena’s life with a camera and stayed there for a full seven years, how did you build the trust that allowed you access to her most intimate moments?

Ion Gnautic: “At the beginning, it was a little difficult because people weren’t used to it... Today, people are used to being filmed for the internet, but back then, since we started in 2017, people were used to being filmed for television. So that was probably a small issue — they didn’t understand that dimension of filmmaking and what it required. They expected to see something on TV by the end of the day or by the end of the week, which didn’t happen that way. I mean, they didn’t see anything by the end of the year either, and they didn’t see anything even after many years. And that was somehow the hardest part — convincing them and building that trust, showing them that we kept coming back for something meaningful and that there was a purpose behind it.

Besides that, I told you about the footage we shot for the ‘Santa’ activities. We edited part of it and showed it to Elena and her family. She understood that we weren’t making fun of her, that we weren’t portraying anything as exotic, that we weren’t joking, and that we had a very ethical approach to what she was doing and how she was doing it. So, in a way, there was trust.

We always tried to maintain that trust, even though, dramaturgically, there were many moments when we had no idea where the story or the film was going. And over the years, they became accustomed to the camera. The camera became a member of the family, we became members of her family, and I think that after three or four years, they simply stopped paying attention to us.

It became a mutual relationship. They would call us and ask, ‘When are you coming back to film?’ Everything happened naturally, like in a relationship — you have to keep checking your compass to see whether the trust is still there.”

How many people were on set when you were filming inside her home?

Ion Gnautic: “Two at most. We kept the crew to a minimum. It was Raisa, the director, and me, as the director of photography. But in some situations, I was the only one there. If we expected some tense moments to happen on a particular day, I would go alone. Because if two people are constantly watching you, there’s very little chance that you’ll start arguing, fighting, complaining, crying, and so on.

So it was important for us not to bring heavy equipment, lights, sound equipment... the absolute minimum, whenever possible.”

As both the producer and director of photography, how did you find the balance between observing the story and influencing it?

Ion Gnautic: “I think our primary goal was never to influence the story in any way. But it was always difficult to switch from the position of the director of photography — someone sitting very comfortably behind the camera... Your role is to build that bridge between reality and the viewer. That comes with power, with responsibility, but also with a comfort zone. The camera works as a protective wall.

But when it comes to producing, it’s always about numbers, spreadsheets, contracts, documents, funding applications and so on. It was very difficult because... I’m not saying that those things aren’t important — they are extremely important. They helped us finance and make the film. But they are very far removed from art, from reality, from that ‘zero’ level at which the director of photography operates.

So, to be honest, I don’t think I ever really found the balance. That was one of the hardest tasks — playing two different people. One was very kind and warm, working with the director, while the other was mathematically oriented, cold...”

Do you prefer being a director of photography or a producer?

Ion Gnautic: “Well, I didn’t shoot for two years because I became too much of a producer. Now I have several co-productions underway... At the moment, I’m more of a producer than a director of photography.

But of course, I prefer being a director of photography — being there in the room, in the space with the protagonist, thinking about the story, dreaming, always imagining where a particular shot, phrase or situation might fit... rather than sitting in an office looking at shrinking funding sources and figuring out how we could finance it.”

Moldova is often portrayed through its problems. Was it important to you to show a different side of your country through the documentary?

Ion Gnautic: “What we witnessed was that Moldova is often portrayed through its problems by people who don’t live in Moldova. What we often see are reports made abroad, while we see very few films... I mean, when I returned to Moldova and we started making the film in 2017, there were very few films made by Moldovans.

For me, anthropologically speaking, it was important for local people to tell their own stories. We have always had this anthropological approach to filmmaking. It wasn’t necessarily important to come with something positive; what mattered to us was having that intimacy, that anthropological and ethical perspective from the point of view of a local storyteller.

I know there are problems everywhere; they are not unique to Moldova. And I think it’s a mistake to define a country solely through its problems. That is where film comes in, and that is where its power lies, because it offers the tools and the platform to see and understand more about what is happening there.”

You returned to Moldova after spending years abroad. What did you see in your country that convinced you this was where you wanted to make films?

Ion Gnautic: “I studied and worked in Romania when I met Raisa. She was a journalist working on social reports about different subjects, and at the beginning, I was her photographer for those reports. I travelled from Romania to Moldova, while she travelled from Moldova to Romania so that we could see each other.

Through her, I was able to see a different country. I had left Moldova ten years earlier and had a very negative view of what the country represented, partly because of the stories that were told about Moldovans.

But she helped me see another reality of the country. Going deep into the villages, meeting authentic people, going beyond journalistic narratives and experiencing places I had never been before... It was love at first sight. Now we have a daughter who is here at the festival with us. She is two years old.”

Isn’t she too young to watch films?

Ion Gnautic: “She has started watching cartoons, and she also watched our film during post-production."

What would you like the Sarajevo audience to take away with them after watching Electing Ms Santa ?

Ion Gnautic: “Actually, when we were making the film, Raisa always said that she didn’t want the film to be a lesson for anyone. She wanted it to be more like a room that the viewer walks into and where they experience an authentic part of Moldova.

But now, after so many festivals where the film has been shown, I would probably like the Sarajevo audience to think about how difficult it is to go against your own culture.

Because Elena is placed in, and lives within, an environment where things are heavily influenced by tradition and local culture. It is always difficult to break down those barriers and walls, but it is not impossible. Perhaps I want the audience to think about the fact that if she managed to do it, then probably anyone can. Because one of the hardest things for her was that she had this desire and intention to change something, but she would always return to the same environment that told her it wasn’t possible, or that she couldn’t do it.

It’s difficult to ‘boil’ in that water of impossibility. So I would like the audience to think about that — about their relationship with their families, about the dreams they have but haven’t fulfilled.”

Elena’s seven-year journey to become mayor may not have ended with a political title, but it ended with something far more valuable — a triumph of identity. The documentary Electing Ms Santa teaches us that true power does not reside in institutions, but in staying true to ourselves.

On August 17, Sarajevo had the opportunity to meet a woman who challenged the traditions of a Moldovan village, while through our conversation with the filmmakers, we discovered both the cost and the beauty of that journey.

All that remains is to follow the film’s journey through the festival circuit, certain of one thing: today, Elena’s Santa Claus costume shines brighter than any mayoral chair ever could.

(Telegraf.rs)