There
are two kinds of fiction films from Eastern Europe, heavily relied on
standard tropes, that are being deemed desired by big festivals.
Basically, either we get a serious-as-death social realist drama
about the perills of communism, capitalism, transition or war and its
effect on Average Joe / Plain Jane and their family, or we get pretty
much the same context, but seen throught the filter of irony,
pitch-black and absurdist comedy. The question is: “Why should not
we have both versions?” And with a dash of surrealism, too. Bojan
Vuletić’s sophmore feature Requiem
for Mrs J, which premiered in Berlinale’s Panorama
Special, is something new, smart and emotionaly charged.
Our
title heroine, Jelena (played with great devotion by iconic Serbian
actress Mirjana Karanović), lives the daily life of
depression. Her daily routine is mundane and empty, her flat in drab
residential blocks of New Belgrade suburb is messy. She lives with
her elderly mother-in-law (a wonderful, for the most of the time
silent performance by the legend of Serbian cinema and theatre Mira
Banjac) and her two daughters, grade-school age foul-mouth
Koviljka (newcomer Danica Nedeljković) and twenty-something
over-worked Ana (Jovana Gavrilović). Ana’s boyfriend
Milanče (Vučić Perović) might not live there, but he is
never too far away, especially when there is work that needs to be
done.
Jelena
was widowed almost a year ago and has no real reason to live. So she
wants to make a statement with killing herself on her husband’s
death anniversary. But before that, she needs to wrap up some
ordinary things: to get her name carved next to her husband’s on
their gravestone, to try to take out her life insurance money and to
validate her health insurance (there is a reason for that, don’t
worry), for which she needs some kind of paper from the company she
worked for until recently. And since we are in Serbia, that kind of
bureaucratic nonsense can get very tricky, absurd and even crazy.
Aside
of actors, the strongest feature of Vuletić’s film is
cinematography by Jelena Stanković. The pallette consisting
mainly of muddy brownish-gray colours may be a bit expected in this
kind of film, but the real power is in static master shots,
beautifully composed and perfectly simmetrical. When the camera
finally gets to move, usually in our heroine’s nighmarish
daydreams, it speaks volumes, being at the same time poetic and
making a strong statement.
Still,
Requiem for Mrs J is an interesting piece of cinema, but not a
perfect one. The first change of tone, from kitchen-sink drama to
Kafka-esque style absurdist tragi-comedy was done perfectly, but
Vuletić doesn’t want to end on that note. So he shifts the
tone again in the final act, which leads to the ending that doesn’t
quite work, but still has its charm in some details. Additional
problem is Vuletić’s writing with occasional long lines of
text, that is all fine and dandy when they are delivered by
experienced actors like Boris Isaković and Srđan “Žika”
Todorović who both have their small supporting parts, but they
prove to be a problem for Jovana Gavrilović who over-acts the
hell of the scene that should be the emotional center of the film.
Nevertheless,
Requiem for Mrs J is a good film, and quite
effective parable on everyday life in Serbia painted by poverty,
disillusion and overwhelming bureaucracy. Even suicide does not seem
like an easy way out. It might not even be possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment