The Most Contaminated Spot on the Planet

The film by New York-based producer Slawomir Grunberg documents the horrors of nuclear contamination around Chelyabinsk, a city of ponderous Stalinesque architecture, 36-hour train ride away from Moscow.

A military complex called Mayak housing atomic weapons, about 80km north of the city, had dumped radioactive wastes into the environment since the 1940s.

Scientists have since proclaimed the region as the most polluted place on the planet.

The film showed a region in crisis, where its people expect to live only to 50, perhaps 55, and where as many as 90 per cent of the children suffer from chronic illnesses.

Grunberg. an Emmy-award winning Polish producer, was in Russia in 1991 as a cameraman for another film when he got aquatinted with an environment activist championing Chelyabinsk.

"The reasons for making this film are clear. The story needs to be told.

"They deserve attention as much as the victims of Chernobyl."

Thus over three years from 1991, Grunberg visited the Chelyabinsk province four times, each trip lasting between two weeks and a month, to collect footage for his film which he completed only in April.

From his intimate interviews with people from all walks of life -- farmers, shepherds, teachers, doctors, factory workers, environmental activists, and doctors who treated the people for radiation sickness but revealed nothing -- a story of horrendous proportions unfolded.

For over six years from 1948, the Mayak complex poured radioactive wastes into the Techa River, the only source of water and swimming hole for the 24 villages which lines its banks.

The villagers were never evacuated, and only recently were they told why barbed wire was strung along the river banks 35 years ago.

They were exposed to radiation level four times more than Chernobyl victims and today, the river banks still tingle with long-lived cesium and strontium.

In a 1957 calamity, the cooling system of a radioactive waste containment unit exploded and spewed some 20 million curies of radioactivity into the atmosphere.

Only some of the victims were evacuated, and only after years had passed.

Ten years later, drought dried up Lake Karachay, a radioactive was dumping ground since 1951.

winds spread radioactive dust throughout 25,000sq km exposing half a million people to radiation levels similar to those in Hiroshima.

"The existence of the Mayak complex was officially unrecognized by the Russian authorities until only recently," said Grunberg who had produced and directed over 20 documentaries since 1982.

His Messenger to Poland won an Emmy for the best documentary in 1990, and another, When The Family Gets AIDS, won first prize in four American and international competitions.

For over 45 years, foreigners were barred from Chelyabinsk in order to maintain the secrecy of the Mayak complex and it was only in January 1992 that Boris Yeltsin signed a decree which put an end to the silence.

Still, Grunberg's attempts to get inside the complex -- by writing to officials and by arrangements to be smuggled in -- were unsuccessful.

Although thousands of the Chelyabinsk populace suffered chronic radiation illness, officials from Mayak still refused to link the high cancer deaths to the dumping of radioactive waste.

The radiation death toll on one family: Idris Sunrasin's grandmother, parents and three of his eight siblings have already died of cancer while Idris himself is dying of stomach cancer.

Doctors have, however, studied the villagers like Guinea pigs for decades -- but told them nothing.

"They were forced to cover up the actual cause of high cancer rates in the past but are not revealing hospital records as they know that talking to journalists will help them get foreign help and funds," said Grunberg.

Making the film was not without hazzards, as there was the constant threat of the project being stopped by authorities.

"I was stopped by the Police but never questioned. Often, I will pretend to be a Russian since I speak the language."

Thought the Chelyabinsk province still have high levels of radiation, Grunberg did not use safety overalls when filming as he reckoned the short term exposure was not dangerous.

He only donned protective clothing once -- at the nuclear material underground storage area which he found to be the most contaminated site.

"I could see cracks in the concrete and the Geiger counter needele was jumping. It was the only time I felt scared."

he knew filming had to be fast to avoid long stays in contaminated areas, yet Grunberg chose to spend time with the villagers.

"For me, it is important to make friends with people I'm filming. Once they feel that I am not a threat, they forget about the camera and will reveal their souls, they will be absolutely honest," he said.

Although a private foundation had covered some of his expenses, Grunberg worked on the film between other profitable projects.

"I don't expect to make money or be paid for this film," he said.

Satisfaction however, stemmed from the fact that he had made Chelyabinsk known to the rest of the world, had helped to set up an ecology college for the province, and had even arranged for three villagers to visit a similar site in the United States.

And even before the film was completed (in April), a two-hour progress version had last year won the Felissimo Art Award in New York. The film will also participate in the Vermont Environmental Film Festival in US next month.

His next project, Nuclear Terror For Sale, will focus on the theft of radioactive material from nuclear facilities.

Like Chelyabinsk: The Most Contaminated Spot on the Planet, he wants his film to warn about the dangers of nuclear power and the dangers of allowing a government to put military secrets above the populace.