There are small moments of casual violence throughout "Grbavica: The Land of My Dreams."
April 7, 2007 (Press Release) --
Kids scuffle during a schoolyard soccer match; someone idly throws a rock at a stray cat. An erotically charged coupling on a dance floor is indistinguishable from an attack.
The fighting and torture may have ended in Sarajevo, but the scars are stubbornly visible. In her film debut, writer and director Jasmila Zbanic has documented a city that's generations away from recovering. The residual pain is an accepted part of life; the only real choice is whether to give in and wince or not. It is still a time when "Do you go to postmortem identifications?" is a viable opening line.
Mirjana Karanovic plays single mother Esma, wearily navigating what's left of her life after the Bosnian War. The movie is filmed in Bosnian with English subtitles, but Karanovic's face bridges the language barrier with heavy-lidded, tight-lipped resignation. Before the war, she was a medical student. Now, she is lucky to land a job as a waitress at a tawdry nightclub. The main joys in her life seem to be chain-smoking and her 12-year-old daughter, Sara (Luna Mijovic).
While Esma is adjusting to the new night shift, Sara is having trouble at school. There is a class trip coming up, and any student whose father was a "shaheed" -- a war martyr -- can go for free.
All Sara needs is a certificate from her mother to prove her father's military service, but Esma keeps putting her off. Adolescence is excruciating enough without the nagging feeling that all is not right in your dingy corner of the world. Sara is forced to grow up with a slap to the face when she asks questions about her background.
"Grbavica" is a quiet movie, with a sense of unease always lurking. It should be depressing, but it's not. The actors ring authentic, and despite their gray surroundings, Esma's strength and Sara's confidence shine through.
Filmmaker Zbanic and her female crew focus on what men's wars do to women. She gives everyday glimpses of Sarajevo and the Grbavica neighborhood, where nobody is sure who they are and nobody knows how to act anymore. A worker tries on a red lace dress in a factory. A tentative couple has a picnic on a hill. But it's all awkward and forced.
There are government-sponsored support groups where women are urged to talk about their feelings. Esma goes only when they are handing out aid checks -- and it's hard to blame her. She has survived, but nobody has the luxury of healing yet.
Source: http://www.msn.com
Posted by Paige Wiser
The fighting and torture may have ended in Sarajevo, but the scars are stubbornly visible. In her film debut, writer and director Jasmila Zbanic has documented a city that's generations away from recovering. The residual pain is an accepted part of life; the only real choice is whether to give in and wince or not. It is still a time when "Do you go to postmortem identifications?" is a viable opening line.
Mirjana Karanovic plays single mother Esma, wearily navigating what's left of her life after the Bosnian War. The movie is filmed in Bosnian with English subtitles, but Karanovic's face bridges the language barrier with heavy-lidded, tight-lipped resignation. Before the war, she was a medical student. Now, she is lucky to land a job as a waitress at a tawdry nightclub. The main joys in her life seem to be chain-smoking and her 12-year-old daughter, Sara (Luna Mijovic).
While Esma is adjusting to the new night shift, Sara is having trouble at school. There is a class trip coming up, and any student whose father was a "shaheed" -- a war martyr -- can go for free.
All Sara needs is a certificate from her mother to prove her father's military service, but Esma keeps putting her off. Adolescence is excruciating enough without the nagging feeling that all is not right in your dingy corner of the world. Sara is forced to grow up with a slap to the face when she asks questions about her background.
"Grbavica" is a quiet movie, with a sense of unease always lurking. It should be depressing, but it's not. The actors ring authentic, and despite their gray surroundings, Esma's strength and Sara's confidence shine through.
Filmmaker Zbanic and her female crew focus on what men's wars do to women. She gives everyday glimpses of Sarajevo and the Grbavica neighborhood, where nobody is sure who they are and nobody knows how to act anymore. A worker tries on a red lace dress in a factory. A tentative couple has a picnic on a hill. But it's all awkward and forced.
There are government-sponsored support groups where women are urged to talk about their feelings. Esma goes only when they are handing out aid checks -- and it's hard to blame her. She has survived, but nobody has the luxury of healing yet.
Source: http://www.msn.com
Posted by Paige Wiser
Email
Print
Download
SPAM
LEAVE A COMMENT
