In a small village cut off from electricity, in the 'grey zone' that formed in Donbas after the Russian invasion in 2014. Only two of them left. Childhood enemies, later mine workers, and now pensioners. Their windows and views of life look in opposite directions, one to the east, the other - to the west, and their lives did not run as desired each in their own way. But then a Russian sniper appears in the village, and the threat of a large offensive is looming. Every day brings the neighbors closer to the inevitable choice - adapt or resist.

Boaz van Luijk about Grey Bees:

Although the beautiful shot, slow paced movie Grey Bees is in colour, you could say that a lot of its scenes are shrouded and become an almost colourless grey: Inside the houses of the heavily damaged, abandoned village paint has faded and everything is covered with a thin layer of dust. At night beeswax candles give little light and a lot of shadows. Outside the snow and mist also pull away a lot of the colour and greatly amplifies the mood of the movie. But the grey of the title cleverly refers to a lot more: the two protagonists are old men, living in the grey zone in Donbass. The war is distant and close at the same time: there are no real fights, but the results are unmistakable: scarcity of food, electricity and supplies, insecurity and isolation. The impressively subdued acted frenemies Serhii en Pashka are the only residual villagers. Although they differ, they try to survive together. Then a dead and alive soldier disturbs the simple lives of the beekeeper and his neighbour. It is in the ubiquitous grey that the situation deteriorates and they have to show their true colours: Who am I? What have I done and what not? Questions that linger with the viewer long after the end credits have gone.