Today’s
Russia is a truly Dickensian nation, rife with orphanages, where special needs
children are consigned to lives of institutional anonymity and often times
abuse. These innocents have been victimized several times over by macro forces
outside their control, starting with the lingering Soviet prejudices against
those not fully able-bodied and labor-ready and most recently by Commiczar
Putin’s ban on American adoptions. Susan Morgan Cooper chronicles the events
that led up to the adoption ban and introduces viewers to the children and
parents who have been cruelly separated in To
the Moon and Back (trailer
here),
which screens during this year’s Dances with Films.
For
propaganda purposes, the adoption ban legislation was named the Dima Yakovlev
Law, in reference to Chase Dmitri Harrison, a Russian toddler adopted by a
Virginia couple, who tragically died a few months after arriving in America.
Cooper does not try to sweep the circumstances of his death under the rug.
Instead, she interviews the still-grieving Harrisons at great length about
their adoption process, their brief life together, and his sad passing. Granted,
it is easy to demonize Miles Harrison in a kneejerk way for forgetting his son
in their hot car on a particularly stressful morning, but the Russian system
also bears responsibility for the under-development of his vocal and
communication skills. Regardless, the Harrisons were more devastated by his
death than any of the posturing Russian nationalists.
Thanks
to cruel fate and Vladimir Putin, Bill Browder is linked to their story. He was
one of the first investment bankers to set up a Russian fund and became an
outspoken advocate of financial transparency. For obvious reasons, this did not
sit well with Putin, who expelled Browder and plundered his company. Much to
his regret, Browder retained the idealistic attorney-auditor Sergei Magnitsky
to document the crimes carried out by the Putin government. Magnitsky’s subsequent
arrest, torture, and prison death by bludgeoning would inspire the Magnitsky
Bill, which froze the assets and banned entry to eighteen Russian officials
complicit in the death of Magnitsky and the looting he had investigated.
Naturally, Putin had to retaliate, so he sacrificed the most vulnerable Russians to do so, using Harrison and a handful of other cases (out of thousands) as a pretext. Cooper interviews many prospective parents whose adoptions were cancelled, even though they had already been approved by the authorities and bounded with their children.
Naturally, Putin had to retaliate, so he sacrificed the most vulnerable Russians to do so, using Harrison and a handful of other cases (out of thousands) as a pretext. Cooper interviews many prospective parents whose adoptions were cancelled, even though they had already been approved by the authorities and bounded with their children.
Clearly,
these kids are the biggest losers from Putin’s churlish power play. There is
virtually no domestic adoption within Russia, especially for special needs children.
Without the possibility of
American
adoption, they truly have no realistic hope of a future. Yet, perhaps most
chillingly, the film also illustrates how an authoritarian regime can cynically
exploit an isolated incident for purposes of propaganda and distraction.
To the Moon is often
agonizingly difficult to watch. From a viewers’ perspective, the Harrisons’
pain is almost unbearable to witness. Yet, the agony and anger of parents whose
late-stage adoptions were abruptly canceled are nearly as raw and visceral. The
documentary also provides a genuine public service with its clear and
compelling explanation of the Magnitsky affair, scoring a long, frank interview
with Browder.