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A couple of months ago, I wrote a quasi-article on Vatroslav Mimica, the greatest Yugoslavian film director. I'm generally happy with how it turned out, but considering how my intention was to bring more attention to him, I really could've done a better job at describing his best films. That is, his two best films, ''Događaj (An Event)'' and ''Kaja, Ubit ću te (Kaya)'', which are about the same level of quality. And here I have a perfect opportunity to remedy that. For my review, I will pick Događaj, partly because it's more accessible of the two, but mostly because I just like it better.
First thing - why do I like it? On paper, it seems like the most generic film in the world - an allegory for ww2 about a boy being left without a guardian, taking place in some rural area? Yeah, but the execution makes it stand out immensely. Its artistic decisions and technical aptitude make sure it doesn't fall into the same trappings as these kinds of films usually do, and comes out feeling like a sincere retelling of someone's experience (both external and internal), rather than just misery porn. In that sense, I want to liken in to One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest, which is an allegory for communism. Miloš Forman wasn't the only person in the world to experience authoritarianism, just like Vatroslav Mimica wasn't the only person to fight in a war, yet their films hit the mark better than anyone else's. They were able to distill the experience right down to its emotional core, and transplant it to a story that can affect anyone, even if they don't care about the allegory. It appeals to your base instincts, and I know that sounds like something any idiot can do, but it's not. It takes extremely high emotional intelligence, as well as the people skills needed to make sure all the actors are on the same page as you. What do I mean by that? How does that emotional intelligence translate into practice? In two ways.
First, the film is stripped of all fluff. If its goal is to invoke the feeling of being a boy caught in a conflict way way bigger than himself, every element included within it should work to that goal, and that's exactly the case here. We have a story of a village boy and his grandfather going to sell their horse at a fair, and getting mugged on their way back. While the third act isn't as simple, it is still made with the same uncompromising vision. The characters are written as archetypes, with the grandfather representing the pre-war status quo, the hunter representing the madness of war (referred to by Mimica as ''irrational evil''), so on and so forth. The eccentric girl played by 10-year-old Marina Nemet definitely represents something, I'm not sure what to call it, but she is a fascinating character to watch, and fits this story perfectly. Mimica, hot off the heels of his modernist trilogy, had to retool his visual style to fit this more traditional narrative, and he pulled it off effortlessly. The flashy surrealness and strange visual language of Kaja, Ubit ću te is gone, but the strong colour scheme and anxious close-ups ensure this is still unmistakably a Vatroslav Mimica film. Though the influence from Kurosawa shows quite a bit (it is speculated if the fight in the mud was an homage to Rashomon, which Mimica himself stated is one of his favourite films), it resembles Kurosawa in the same sense that Kurosawa resembles John Ford, i.e. not too much and only in good ways.
Second, it has restraint. Those of you who saw my (now disowned) ex-yu movie list know this is the exact reason I liked Armin. Both the script writer and the actors knew what emptions they were supposed to invoke, but they also knew to keep them on a tight leash, trusting you to be smart enough to pick up on them. The blood and killing is given its due buildup, so it feels worth taking seriously. You don't shrug it off as just another bit of movie violence. All the actors are self-controlled and dignified, so you can buy them as living, breathing people, despite (or perhaps because of) them being archetypes. Fahro Konjhodžić, Mimica's son Sergio, and (uncharacteristically) Pavle Vuisić were all good, but Boris Dvornik deserves special mention. Dino's dad was put into a role completely opposite to his usual shtick of pretty-boys and womanizers, and was made into a terrifyingly believable volatile psycho. You see his face on that boat and you just know he's trouble. One of my favourite villains of all time.
I know there might be some suspicion of me shilling some random Croatian movie nobody's ever heard of, you might assume I'm doing it out of corny patriotism, but I would never do that. Sure, that's the reason I know of it, but when I review something I need to look at it with a critical eye, so when I say An Event is a masterpiece, you can be sure I really mean it. An amazing example of allegories, and an amazing example of archetype-based storytelling. It's not every day you see a film that cuts to the meat of things so profoundly.
We're not in Višegrad but what the hell: part 5 - Croatia
An Event
aka
Događaj
1969
An Event
aka
Događaj
1969
A couple of months ago, I wrote a quasi-article on Vatroslav Mimica, the greatest Yugoslavian film director. I'm generally happy with how it turned out, but considering how my intention was to bring more attention to him, I really could've done a better job at describing his best films. That is, his two best films, ''Događaj (An Event)'' and ''Kaja, Ubit ću te (Kaya)'', which are about the same level of quality. And here I have a perfect opportunity to remedy that. For my review, I will pick Događaj, partly because it's more accessible of the two, but mostly because I just like it better.
First thing - why do I like it? On paper, it seems like the most generic film in the world - an allegory for ww2 about a boy being left without a guardian, taking place in some rural area? Yeah, but the execution makes it stand out immensely. Its artistic decisions and technical aptitude make sure it doesn't fall into the same trappings as these kinds of films usually do, and comes out feeling like a sincere retelling of someone's experience (both external and internal), rather than just misery porn. In that sense, I want to liken in to One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest, which is an allegory for communism. Miloš Forman wasn't the only person in the world to experience authoritarianism, just like Vatroslav Mimica wasn't the only person to fight in a war, yet their films hit the mark better than anyone else's. They were able to distill the experience right down to its emotional core, and transplant it to a story that can affect anyone, even if they don't care about the allegory. It appeals to your base instincts, and I know that sounds like something any idiot can do, but it's not. It takes extremely high emotional intelligence, as well as the people skills needed to make sure all the actors are on the same page as you. What do I mean by that? How does that emotional intelligence translate into practice? In two ways.
First, the film is stripped of all fluff. If its goal is to invoke the feeling of being a boy caught in a conflict way way bigger than himself, every element included within it should work to that goal, and that's exactly the case here. We have a story of a village boy and his grandfather going to sell their horse at a fair, and getting mugged on their way back. While the third act isn't as simple, it is still made with the same uncompromising vision. The characters are written as archetypes, with the grandfather representing the pre-war status quo, the hunter representing the madness of war (referred to by Mimica as ''irrational evil''), so on and so forth. The eccentric girl played by 10-year-old Marina Nemet definitely represents something, I'm not sure what to call it, but she is a fascinating character to watch, and fits this story perfectly. Mimica, hot off the heels of his modernist trilogy, had to retool his visual style to fit this more traditional narrative, and he pulled it off effortlessly. The flashy surrealness and strange visual language of Kaja, Ubit ću te is gone, but the strong colour scheme and anxious close-ups ensure this is still unmistakably a Vatroslav Mimica film. Though the influence from Kurosawa shows quite a bit (it is speculated if the fight in the mud was an homage to Rashomon, which Mimica himself stated is one of his favourite films), it resembles Kurosawa in the same sense that Kurosawa resembles John Ford, i.e. not too much and only in good ways.
Second, it has restraint. Those of you who saw my (now disowned) ex-yu movie list know this is the exact reason I liked Armin. Both the script writer and the actors knew what emptions they were supposed to invoke, but they also knew to keep them on a tight leash, trusting you to be smart enough to pick up on them. The blood and killing is given its due buildup, so it feels worth taking seriously. You don't shrug it off as just another bit of movie violence. All the actors are self-controlled and dignified, so you can buy them as living, breathing people, despite (or perhaps because of) them being archetypes. Fahro Konjhodžić, Mimica's son Sergio, and (uncharacteristically) Pavle Vuisić were all good, but Boris Dvornik deserves special mention. Dino's dad was put into a role completely opposite to his usual shtick of pretty-boys and womanizers, and was made into a terrifyingly believable volatile psycho. You see his face on that boat and you just know he's trouble. One of my favourite villains of all time.
I know there might be some suspicion of me shilling some random Croatian movie nobody's ever heard of, you might assume I'm doing it out of corny patriotism, but I would never do that. Sure, that's the reason I know of it, but when I review something I need to look at it with a critical eye, so when I say An Event is a masterpiece, you can be sure I really mean it. An amazing example of allegories, and an amazing example of archetype-based storytelling. It's not every day you see a film that cuts to the meat of things so profoundly.