| Pressemeldungen / press reports | ||||||||
Festival – Serbia Applause for Grbavica in Belgrade Amid strong emotions, collective soul-searching and the spirit of reconciliation, the Serbian premiere of Grbavica – by young Bosnian director Jasmila Zbanic, winner of the Golden Bear at last month’s Berlin Film Festival – was a huge success in Belgrade. The film tells the story of a mother, a victim of ethnic rape from the horrific siege of Sarajevo by the Serbs. Received with some uncertainty, against the backdrop of grumbling from several pseudo-patriotic groups and denied distribution in the Republika Srpska (the Serb-governed political entity within Bosnia and Hercegovina), the Austrian/German/Bosnian/Croatian co-production was, however, screened with full honours in Serbian capital, in the main theatre of the Sava Centar, at the end of the most important international film festival in Belgrade. The result: a packed theatre and a standing ovation from the over 2,000 audience members for the director and the lead actors, all of whom were sitting in the front row. This finale does justice to the controversy set off in past weeks by several militant-nostalgic remarks against the film and especially against Mirjana Karanovic, one of Serbia’s most beloved actresses, who was accused of helping to spread "anti-Serbian propaganda" for having accepted the role of the young Bosnian rape victim. A controversy that had moreover already stirred up a response from the majority of Belgrade’s film critics, who were enthusiastic about Zbanic’s film, and which ultimately only ended up being a short-lived commotion outside the screening, made by a dozen young thugs who tried to disrupt the evening with their shouted slogans and t-shirts with pictures of the notorious Serbian-Bosnian leaders Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic. 08 March, 2006, www.cineeuropa.org The film " Grbavica " supported
by Eurimages has been banished from Bosnia's Serbian territories Grbavica By Kirk Honeycutt BERLIN -- In her brave first feature, Bosnian writer-director Jasmila Zbanic tackles the theme of war's aftermath. The past haunts the movie's present as painful memories worm their way into the daily activities of people going about their lives. Everything looks normal, but every glance and gesture tell you that "normal" went out of business a long time ago. A schoolchild will speak with pride about his or her late father being a "shaheed" or war martyr. People eagerly flock to postmortem identifications whenever new mass graves are discovered in hopes of claiming the body of a loved one whose fate remains unknown. Future festival dates loom for "Grbavica" though most likely wider exposure will come with European TV sales. Mirjana Karanovic, known for her roles in films by Emir Kusturica, plays Esma, a mother who lives with her 12-year-old daughter Sara (newcomer Luna Mijovic) in Sarajevo's Grbavica district. The neighborhood, heavily damaged and then used as an internment camp during the 1990s Yugoslav wars, is still undergoing reconstruction. Unable to make ends meet on government aid, Esma takes a waitress job in a nightclub along with a day job in a shoe factory. She attends therapy sessions in a local women's center, but does so mostly to collect additional aid. Sara develops a friendship with a male classmate (Kenan Catic) when they discover each has lost a father in the war. A school trip is coming up, for which Esma must find the money. Sara can go free if she provides a certificate proving her father died a shaheed. Only her mother is determined to pay full price, as the red tape in securing the document is too great. Sara gradually comes to realize her mother has never told her the truth about the war years. Zbanic's script delicately intertwines the overwhelming hurt of the past with the quotidian details of her characters' lives. A friendship Esma strikes up with a male co-worker (Leon Lucev) at the club finds its bonds in the past. Even the film's music expresses the conflicting realities in the Balkans: Sensitive, God-fearing ilahijes music contrasts with popular "turbo folk" songs, originating in Serbia, that appeal to aggressiveness and machismo. Zbanic and cinematographer Christine Maier shoot naturally
so as to capture the sense of a fake and often failed veil of normalcy
drawn over too many horrible secrets. |
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