Can a Film Have a Second Life? The Story of the Film OURS Ten Years Later

Official poster for the film "OURS"

Sometimes filmmakers create films without even suspecting what path lies ahead of them. They pour themselves into their work, they try, they hope, but deep down they begin to doubt, not expecting anything extraordinary from the film.

After all, who are they compared to famous Hollywood producers and directors?

And if the filmmakers themselves begin to doubt their work, what can we say about the wider audience, which often overlooks independent cinema?

Yet independent cinema continues to surprise both its creators and audiences around the world, because sometimes the journey of a film is unpredictable and doesn't end after just a few festivals and nominations.

In this article, I want to share the story behind OURS—a film that began its journey in the mountains of the Caucasus and, ten years later, continues that journey on the other side of the world, in Chile.

Its story began in 2013 with a single idea—and a single letter.

Film producer Anna Raevskaya, together with her team, discovered an old letter written by a World War II military commander in the attic of a local historian's house. Inside were the coordinates of an abandoned mass grave where young soldiers who had defended one of the mountain passes in the Caucasus had been buried. After the battle, there was no opportunity to bury them properly, so their comrades covered their bodies with stones before moving on.

For decades, no one knew where this place was.

Until now.

Anna organized an expedition that included a group of teenagers, several parents, a film crew, and an experienced mountain guide.

Together, they set off on a journey.

Twelve days.

Mountains.

A demanding climb.

Almost none of the teenagers had any experience with mountain expeditions or filmmaking. In the beginning, it wasn't easy. Everyone thought mostly about themselves, the difficult trail wore them down, and more than once they wanted to give up.

Anna remembers those days with a smile:

"One boy secretly ate chocolate behind the tent. Then he'd come back with chocolate all over his lips, insisting he hadn't eaten anything.

One of the girls packed an entire collection of shampoos, deodorants, and cosmetics. Almost every day she left another bottle behind in the mountains just to make her backpack a little lighter.

We all laughed about it."

Then, just as they had decided to turn back, the group made one final decision—to climb the stone mound one last time.

Unexpectedly, whether from the vibration of their footsteps or simply by chance, one of the large stones shifted. Beneath it was a hollow space.

When they carefully began removing the stones, they discovered human remains and soldiers' identification tags.

They had found the burial site.

The expedition ended in success—not only because they had achieved their goal, but because, by the end of the journey, the group had become a true team.

United by a shared purpose, they had learned to set aside their own comfort, support one another, and work together.

In the end, the discovery was made not only because of determination and perseverance, but because of teamwork, trust, and mutual support.

Later, a memorial was erected at the burial site, and the story of the expedition became the foundation for the feature film OURS.

Anna describes the film this way: "The film tells two parallel stories. Two young men set out on a mountain expedition in the present day, equipped with modern gear and all the comforts of contemporary life. Running alongside their journey is the story of two young soldiers in 1942, climbing the very same mountains under completely different circumstances—with no sleep, little food, no clean water, no warmth, only war, only weapons, and the responsibility of protecting a future they would never live to see. I wanted audiences to feel that connection between generations and to understand the price that has sometimes been paid for the peace we enjoy today."

OURS premiered in 2015 and was warmly received by both audiences and film professionals. It went on to win numerous international awards, screen at film festivals around the world, and inspire more than 120 published articles. The film was also shown in cinemas, libraries, and veterans' organizations. Yet its greatest achievement had nothing to do with awards. It helped one family finally discover what had happened to a young relative who had disappeared during World War II. One day, Anna received a phone call from a woman in tears. For nearly thirty minutes, she couldn't understand who was calling. Eventually, the woman explained that she was the great-granddaughter of one of the soldiers whose remains had been discovered during the expedition. She had attended a screening of OURS by chance and recognized her ancestor's name on the memorial shown in the closing scenes of the film. Her family had spent forty years searching for answers. He had gone to war at the age of eighteen and never returned. Thanks to the film, they finally learned where he had been laid to rest and what had happened to him. "That was the moment I truly understood that cinema can do much more than tell stories," Anna says. "Sometimes it preserves memory. Sometimes it helps people find answers they have been searching for their entire lives."

A few years later, it seemed that the journey of OURS had finally come to an end. There were no more festivals, awards, or unexpected stories. Anna had moved on to new projects and new chapters in her life. But let's go back to the beginning of this story: every film has a journey of its own, and it rarely ends where we expect it to. Ten years after its release, OURS was officially selected for a film festival in Chile—on the other side of the world. Suddenly, its story wasn't over at all. In many ways, it was just beginning again. "Once again, I'm reminded of how extraordinary life can be," Anna says. "A story that began in the mountains of the Caucasus is still traveling the world ten years later. And perhaps that is the true miracle of cinema."

Sometimes a film's journey doesn't end with a few awards or festival screenings. Sometimes it continues for years, finding new audiences in unexpected places. But perhaps that was never the true purpose of cinema. Awards, trophies, and recognition are meaningful, but they are not what matters most. What truly matters is the impact a story can have on someone's life. Not every film helps solve a decades-old mystery, as OURS did. Not every film changes someone's life forever. But if a single story helps one person see the world differently, find hope, or simply feel understood, then that film has already fulfilled its purpose.

That is why OURS continues its journey today—and why so many independent films deserve the chance to be seen.

As filmmakers and audiences, we all have the opportunity to support new voices and encourage emerging storytellers whose work may one day inspire others.

This belief is at the heart of Planet Frame.

Having experienced the challenges of independent filmmaking firsthand, Anna Raevskaya created Planet Frame to support emerging filmmakers and help them share their stories with the world.

As Anna says:

"Planet Frame didn't happen by chance. I created it because I've walked the same path as every independent filmmaker. I've experienced the anticipation of festival decisions, the excitement of official selections, and I understand how important encouragement can be at the beginning of a creative journey. That's why Planet Frame is more than a film festival. It's a project born from personal experience."

Keep creating.

Keep believing in your work.

And while you're building your own path, remember to support others who are doing the same.

Cinema has always been about people. And the strongest stories are the ones we create together.