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A while back, I made a list of top 10 ex-yu movies, but I wasn't satisfied with it so I decided to have another go.
I, like every non-anglo on this site, was interested in what the best movies from my country are. I've also decided to include Serbia and Bosnia, since in the past, we actually were the same country, and still speak the same language (which is why I've excluded Slovenia and Macedonia). Most of them were trash, as expected. Nobody here respects our cinema, and that's for a reason; it's poorly made and overpoliticized. The latter is especially a problem, considering we tend to handle political commentary in an opinionated, overbearing way, similar to nu-South Park. That problem peaked in the '60s during the black wave, when we had movies like Feast and Even I Met Happy Gypsies, which were considered good at the time, but looking back, they were like modern art: concernd more with being edgy than with being good.
And even without that, we as a collective just aren't that talented. Not as much as Czechs or Germans, but there does exist legitimate artistic talent among us. Some of my favourite music videos come from Split, and my favourite satirist Vidoviti Milan is from Serbia, so logic dictates we'd be capable of creating at least a few good movies. And we did just that. Nothing of Marketa Lazarova quality, but what is there deserves to be talked about.
First, for a movie to make this list, it has to leave a strong enough impression for me to talk about it enthusiastically. Who's singing over there, for example, is entertaining but I haven't spared it a thought since watching it.
Second, only one movie per director. I want the list to be as varied as possible, so I had to snub some good movies like F20 and Life is a Miracle.
Third, no ripoffs of foreign movies. Metastaze and Rane are both good, but all I have to say about them is ''Trainspotting.hr'' and ''Goodfellas.rs''.
Fourth, movies that ''aren't my cup of tea'' won't be included, since it's not up to me to judge if those are good or bad.
More on that note, this is coming from a zoomer, so you may notice a bias towards the more recent stuff, but in my defense, most of those partisan movies are just a poor man's Rambo.
The 2000's are what I'd consider to be the golden age of ex-yu cinema, and Armin is a good example of why. The war had given us plenty to talk about, and by the turn of the century we've sobered up enough to handle those subjects with subtlety. That's the name of the game: Armin is a simple story about a father trying to get his son a role in a movie, but it has certain underlying themes - cultural inferiority, dignity, exhibitionism - which will come up in your mind after yuo let the movie sink in.
Its biggest strength, however, are the lead performances by Emir Hadžihafsbegović and Armin Omerović. Omerović is fantastic at portraying someone who has feelings to communicate, but no way to communicate them. He remains stone-faced thorughout the whole movie, not even giving anything away through tone of voice or body language, only his actions. Hadžihafisbegović's character Ibrahim is a father who tries his hardest to get him out of his shell, and you can feel the poorly concealed desperation in every line, ever gesture and every action. Both of them have completely disappeared into their roles.
With such a slow pace and short runtime, Armin does somewhat feel like a stretched-out short film, which is why it's only number 10, but what it has to offer makes it well worth seeing.
We've tried our hand at arthouse movies a couple of times, but this is one of the few that actually worked. Its central theme is the loss of what once was, with the majority of it taking place in the protagonist's memories of his home island.
The one thing The Lost Homeland does really well is create a window into a different time. All the stories taking place in the past feel like something normal, that happens in real life: the protagonist sneaks out with a girl onto a boat, his father teaches him how to stomp grapes, and so on. You are surrounded by simple people with simple concerns. They don't even feel like movie characters, just random locals going about their daily business. There was likely some influence from Italian neo-realism. The camera, likewise, focuses on the surroundings more than the characters, giving the whole movie a grounded, unrefined, and naturally beautiful look.
Language also plays a big role, with the present's formal Croatian being contrasted with the past's semi-Italian dialect, which as a dalmatian myself, I really appreciated.
Considering how I ragged on the black wave, it may seem weird I like Seven and a Half. It has a similar core concept of a dark, unconventionally structured movie with a focus on social commentary, but it all works out here because it doesn't forget to make a concrete, reasonable point (on top of being actually entertaining, ecksdee).
It's split into seven episodes, each focusing on one of the seven deadly sins and how they destroyed their respective characters. They vary from melodrama to dark comedy, but each episode (except for Greed) is cleverly written, well-paced, and entertaining. It has a fittingly demented visual style remeniscent of A Clockwork Orange, which really got to shine in the Gluttony chapter. Though, the best chapter is Wrath, if just for how effectively it portrays its character as a pathetic train wreck.
Since the stories revolve around universal human flaws, you're bound to recognize yourself in at least one of the episodes. The movie, simply put, urges us to be better people. It sounds like a cheesy point to make, but the way it's presented makes it rather touching. It's not perfect, the Greed chapter is boring and there's some moments of absolute cringe sprinkled thrughout, but it nevertheless manages to leave a strong impression.
I often describe Ciguli Miguli as a cross between Dr. Strangelove and One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest. It doesn't count as a ripoff because it predates both of these movies, but it has something that makes it worth watching even today: the ability to make you laugh and think at the same time. It's a great proof of concept for satire as a genre.
First off, it remembers not to take itself too seriously. Its directing style is as campy as they come. You can expect fourth wall breaks and kicks in the ass, backed by overdone, hammy acting. It can be pretty damn funny when it gets in the groove, especially with the government official Ivan Ivanović playing straight man to the townspeople.
Second, it doesn't back down from uncomfortable truths. It criticizes the communist regime for destroying our culture, but it also criticizes us for neglecting it. It remins us of how incompetent those officials are, but asks us why are we kissing up to them. It presents these statements through jokes, like a good satire should. If Dr. Strangelove has ''Our source was the New York Times'', Ciguli Miguli has ''Kada je Ciguli Miguli... postao spomenik''.
It's not a perfect movie by any means. The hammy acting doesn't always work, and it spends too much time on pointless subplots, but it deserves a spot on this list simply by the virtue that it's the only Yugoslav movie I'll bring up when the talking about something other than films.
I was split between this one and TIme of the Gypsies, since they're around the same level of quality, but I went with this one for being more original.
Black Cat, White Cat is, in short, a comedy with zero restraint. There's a thin plot concerning a gypsy trying to marry off his son in order to pay off his debt to a gangster, but it basically boils down to a 2-hour circus show fueled by trumpets and rakija.
Kusturica's magical realist visual style and imaginative set design are what keeps it fresh. There's visible Buster Keaton influence, with the jokes revolving around the character doing ''whatever it takes'', like escaping their own wedding in a cardboard box, or hiding their father's death by freezing him in an attic. It's the most light-hearted Kusturica's ever been, but the gypsy actors' carefree additude, explosive soundtrack and Kusturica's knack for festivity just made it work. It's bursting at the seams with positive energy.
Cowboys feels like a movie that, by all laws of nature, we should've botched, but somehow didn't. The premise is fairly simple - a group of idiots tries to put together a play - but it's all in the execution.
The movie's biggest strength is in its characters. They all have vivid personalities which play off each other well, and are just exaggerated enough to still be believable. Their interactions capture what it feels like to talk to a sheltered dork, a pissy supervisor, or a borderline retarded gypsy. That's what makes them funny. Most comedies of this type would've made them too cartoonish (see: Will Ferrell), but this one hits the perfect middle ground. All the acting feels natural, even for the more awkward characters like Javor, and does the writing justice.
The drama is a little cheesy, but it's woven well enough into the story to keep the momentum going. I could also go on about how clever the editing and shot composition are, but the bottom line is that Cowboys is good stuff.
This is my personal favourite film on the list, and the one to have convinced me it can be made. It has the same trait that made me fall in love with Fantastic Mr. Fox and Jester's Tale: the feeling of an individual artist just doing what he loves, naysayers be damned. It shows in its every individual aspect, but more importantly, how they all mesh together to create a vibrant Gestalt. Almost to the point that I'm not doing it any favours by picking it apart.
There's three stories taking place on new year's eve, all somehow relating to the drug dealer Crni. They're told in a non-linear fashion, and all lead into each other in some way. We hear the new year's countdown multiple times, come across the same homeless guy with a number of different characters, and by the end, you'll feel like you've lived in this place and known these people for years. It creates a sense of comfort among the darkness.
The visual style gives off the same effect. Every shot feels like an adaptation of a grim post-war painting, done in striking black-and-white, and with very carefully considered composition and lighting. It's shot almost entirely in Varoš, Split's old residential area, with its typically cosy mediterranean narrow streets and stone walls. You get a number of shots floating above the streets like a ghost, transitioning from one character to another. It's an absolute work of art and the best-looking movie on the list, bar none.
Finally, this is just a personal thing, but A Wonderful Night in Split reminds me of the golden age of Croatian pop culture. It opened the floodgate for memories of Dino Dvornik, TBF, Rafo, Serious Sam, Laku Noć Hrvatska, Stipe Mesić, and everything we lost after getting acnschlussed by the EU. It might as well, because we're never getting anything like this again.
Post-war movies like Armin owe their success to taking a sober, subtle approach to their themes. Pretty Village, Pretty Flame does the exact opposite.
It is similar to Come and See in the sense that it's just people trying to survive a war, and even features a subplot about two friends being made enemies, but the difference is that while Come and See is about the stress of war, this film is about the madness. The characters spend the duration of the plot in a haze of bloodlust, burning villages and toying with their trapped enemies. It doesn't spell it out for you that what they're doing is bad; it respects you enough to let you infer that for yourself. That's what allows it to delve into dark humour. It comes from the characters deliberately trying to make each other laugh, with the exchange of lulz even taking place between the serbs and bosnians. Normally, humour in this type of movie would kill the mood, but here, it just adds to the sense of madness.
Think about it. How many filmmakers would have the balls to attempt something like this, let alone pull it off?
H-8... is a rare example of an unusual idea being executed perfectly on its first try.
It came at a time when thrillers were just coming into their own as a genre, but there's a fundamental difference that makes H-8... stand out even today. The disaster in question is just a bus crash in which only 6 people died, but it's not about the bus, it's about the people. To refer to the famous Stalin quote - ''the death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic'' - H-8... is decidedly a tragedy.
The intro sequence tells you that people will die, but it doesn't tell you who exactly dies. From then on, it keeps you hooked with the character interactions, building a human, believable ensemble cast. They're like an attempt to cover every aspect of humanity. There's a young man trying to win over a girl, an unhappily married couple, an old man frustrated with his disconnection from the rest of the world, so on and so forth, and their personalities and interactions are so realistic, they effortlessly draw you into the setting, leaving you to be just as blindsided by the crash as the characters themselves. It's such a slick way to handle the theme of death.
Of course, the realism doesn't take away from the pizzazz at all. The dialogue that takes up the vast majority of the movie is sharp enough to cut through steel. There wasn't a single line that bored me.
Thrillers have grown as a genre since 1958, but H-8...'s elegance and uniqueness make it truly timeless.
I went back and forth about including this one. You often see Hedgehog in the Fog on top 10 lists of Russian movies, so I guess animated shorts aren't completely haram, but is Surogat really good enough to warrant such a deviation?
By our standards, it is, but using it to fill out a spot felt cheap, so here it is as a special mention. I figured it still deserves to be brought up.
There's no denying there was some influence from the UPA cartoons, with how the simple and abstract the art style is, but Surogat manages to give it more consistent internal logic. The world is bizzare, sure, but you can still understand the way it functions. To add to that consistency, all the sight gags take full advantage of the art style. It's really hard to explain, it's better of just viewed, but every design quirk gets used in some way.
There's a sense of rhythm and precision to the animation, like a visualization of a catchy jazz song. Chuck Jones, the greatest of all animators, said that good animation should take inspiration from real life, and that's definitely on display here, as the inspiration from jazz, old yugoslavian culture and the way Purgers act on vacation gives it personality. The execution isn't quite on Chuck's level, but it's well within the ranks of Genndy Tartakovsky.
I'm a big fan of classic cartoons. I'll watch them any time, provided nobody's looking, and I'm glad we got to make one that's not just good, but great.
This is the one that won the Oscar. That's what it's famous for, which sadly overshadows how great the it is.
There's been a trillion anti-war movies throughout all the countries and the time periods, but this is the one I'd point to as an example of speaking from the heart. Everyone - the director, the actors, the composers, the cinematographer - had the exact same thing in mind: frustration.
That frustration is driven home by a story of soldiers trying to escape a trench - one is a serb, one is a bosnian, and one is laying on a landmine that'll explode if he gets up. It's a situation that gives you time to think, but what are they supposed to do here? They can't run for help because they'll get shot, the French unit sent to rescue them doesn't care, and the British journalist is just here for the juicy story. With how it paces its glimmers of hope and the dashings thereof, it makes its 90 minutes feel like an eternity.
What I also appreciate is how it focuses on the human aspect of war. Both Čiki and Nino are just average joes who weren't mentally prepared for the heat of war, so it completely threw them off. They go from animosity to apathy to frinedly chitchat at the drop of a hat. It all feels like natural, human confusion that'd come about in such a weird situation. Also, Rene Bitorajac's performance as Nino was in itself worth a second Oscar.
The war takes place in a sunny plain. It doesn't make you want to kill Serbs, it makes you want to have a picnic. It goes to the same end as the characters, but it also gives the movie a dash of dark humour.
You can argue that it's not as unique as H-8, as artistic as A Wonderful Night in Split or as edgy as Pretty Village, Pretty Flame, but the fact of the matter is that No Man's Land is objectively the best movie to ever come out of ex-Yugoslavia. It's the only one that could be considered for a 10/10.
What is the point of this list?
I, like every non-anglo on this site, was interested in what the best movies from my country are. I've also decided to include Serbia and Bosnia, since in the past, we actually were the same country, and still speak the same language (which is why I've excluded Slovenia and Macedonia). Most of them were trash, as expected. Nobody here respects our cinema, and that's for a reason; it's poorly made and overpoliticized. The latter is especially a problem, considering we tend to handle political commentary in an opinionated, overbearing way, similar to nu-South Park. That problem peaked in the '60s during the black wave, when we had movies like Feast and Even I Met Happy Gypsies, which were considered good at the time, but looking back, they were like modern art: concernd more with being edgy than with being good.
And even without that, we as a collective just aren't that talented. Not as much as Czechs or Germans, but there does exist legitimate artistic talent among us. Some of my favourite music videos come from Split, and my favourite satirist Vidoviti Milan is from Serbia, so logic dictates we'd be capable of creating at least a few good movies. And we did just that. Nothing of Marketa Lazarova quality, but what is there deserves to be talked about.
The rules
First, for a movie to make this list, it has to leave a strong enough impression for me to talk about it enthusiastically. Who's singing over there, for example, is entertaining but I haven't spared it a thought since watching it.
Second, only one movie per director. I want the list to be as varied as possible, so I had to snub some good movies like F20 and Life is a Miracle.
Third, no ripoffs of foreign movies. Metastaze and Rane are both good, but all I have to say about them is ''Trainspotting.hr'' and ''Goodfellas.rs''.
Fourth, movies that ''aren't my cup of tea'' won't be included, since it's not up to me to judge if those are good or bad.
More on that note, this is coming from a zoomer, so you may notice a bias towards the more recent stuff, but in my defense, most of those partisan movies are just a poor man's Rambo.
#10 - Armin
2007, drama, Ognjen Svilčić
The 2000's are what I'd consider to be the golden age of ex-yu cinema, and Armin is a good example of why. The war had given us plenty to talk about, and by the turn of the century we've sobered up enough to handle those subjects with subtlety. That's the name of the game: Armin is a simple story about a father trying to get his son a role in a movie, but it has certain underlying themes - cultural inferiority, dignity, exhibitionism - which will come up in your mind after yuo let the movie sink in.
Its biggest strength, however, are the lead performances by Emir Hadžihafsbegović and Armin Omerović. Omerović is fantastic at portraying someone who has feelings to communicate, but no way to communicate them. He remains stone-faced thorughout the whole movie, not even giving anything away through tone of voice or body language, only his actions. Hadžihafisbegović's character Ibrahim is a father who tries his hardest to get him out of his shell, and you can feel the poorly concealed desperation in every line, ever gesture and every action. Both of them have completely disappeared into their roles.
With such a slow pace and short runtime, Armin does somewhat feel like a stretched-out short film, which is why it's only number 10, but what it has to offer makes it well worth seeing.
#9 - The Lost Homeland
1980, arthouse drama, Ante Babaja
1980, arthouse drama, Ante Babaja
We've tried our hand at arthouse movies a couple of times, but this is one of the few that actually worked. Its central theme is the loss of what once was, with the majority of it taking place in the protagonist's memories of his home island.
The one thing The Lost Homeland does really well is create a window into a different time. All the stories taking place in the past feel like something normal, that happens in real life: the protagonist sneaks out with a girl onto a boat, his father teaches him how to stomp grapes, and so on. You are surrounded by simple people with simple concerns. They don't even feel like movie characters, just random locals going about their daily business. There was likely some influence from Italian neo-realism. The camera, likewise, focuses on the surroundings more than the characters, giving the whole movie a grounded, unrefined, and naturally beautiful look.
Language also plays a big role, with the present's formal Croatian being contrasted with the past's semi-Italian dialect, which as a dalmatian myself, I really appreciated.
#8 - Seven and a Half
2006, anthology, Miroslav Momčilović
2006, anthology, Miroslav Momčilović
Considering how I ragged on the black wave, it may seem weird I like Seven and a Half. It has a similar core concept of a dark, unconventionally structured movie with a focus on social commentary, but it all works out here because it doesn't forget to make a concrete, reasonable point (on top of being actually entertaining, ecksdee).
It's split into seven episodes, each focusing on one of the seven deadly sins and how they destroyed their respective characters. They vary from melodrama to dark comedy, but each episode (except for Greed) is cleverly written, well-paced, and entertaining. It has a fittingly demented visual style remeniscent of A Clockwork Orange, which really got to shine in the Gluttony chapter. Though, the best chapter is Wrath, if just for how effectively it portrays its character as a pathetic train wreck.
Since the stories revolve around universal human flaws, you're bound to recognize yourself in at least one of the episodes. The movie, simply put, urges us to be better people. It sounds like a cheesy point to make, but the way it's presented makes it rather touching. It's not perfect, the Greed chapter is boring and there's some moments of absolute cringe sprinkled thrughout, but it nevertheless manages to leave a strong impression.
#7 - Ciguli Miguli
1952, satire, Branko Marjanović
1952, satire, Branko Marjanović
I often describe Ciguli Miguli as a cross between Dr. Strangelove and One Flew Over a Cuckoo's Nest. It doesn't count as a ripoff because it predates both of these movies, but it has something that makes it worth watching even today: the ability to make you laugh and think at the same time. It's a great proof of concept for satire as a genre.
First off, it remembers not to take itself too seriously. Its directing style is as campy as they come. You can expect fourth wall breaks and kicks in the ass, backed by overdone, hammy acting. It can be pretty damn funny when it gets in the groove, especially with the government official Ivan Ivanović playing straight man to the townspeople.
Second, it doesn't back down from uncomfortable truths. It criticizes the communist regime for destroying our culture, but it also criticizes us for neglecting it. It remins us of how incompetent those officials are, but asks us why are we kissing up to them. It presents these statements through jokes, like a good satire should. If Dr. Strangelove has ''Our source was the New York Times'', Ciguli Miguli has ''Kada je Ciguli Miguli... postao spomenik''.
It's not a perfect movie by any means. The hammy acting doesn't always work, and it spends too much time on pointless subplots, but it deserves a spot on this list simply by the virtue that it's the only Yugoslav movie I'll bring up when the talking about something other than films.
#6 - Black Cat, White Cat
1998, comedy, Emir Kusturica
I was split between this one and TIme of the Gypsies, since they're around the same level of quality, but I went with this one for being more original.
Black Cat, White Cat is, in short, a comedy with zero restraint. There's a thin plot concerning a gypsy trying to marry off his son in order to pay off his debt to a gangster, but it basically boils down to a 2-hour circus show fueled by trumpets and rakija.
Kusturica's magical realist visual style and imaginative set design are what keeps it fresh. There's visible Buster Keaton influence, with the jokes revolving around the character doing ''whatever it takes'', like escaping their own wedding in a cardboard box, or hiding their father's death by freezing him in an attic. It's the most light-hearted Kusturica's ever been, but the gypsy actors' carefree additude, explosive soundtrack and Kusturica's knack for festivity just made it work. It's bursting at the seams with positive energy.
#5 - Cowboys
2013, ensemble comedy, Tomislav Mršić
Cowboys feels like a movie that, by all laws of nature, we should've botched, but somehow didn't. The premise is fairly simple - a group of idiots tries to put together a play - but it's all in the execution.
The movie's biggest strength is in its characters. They all have vivid personalities which play off each other well, and are just exaggerated enough to still be believable. Their interactions capture what it feels like to talk to a sheltered dork, a pissy supervisor, or a borderline retarded gypsy. That's what makes them funny. Most comedies of this type would've made them too cartoonish (see: Will Ferrell), but this one hits the perfect middle ground. All the acting feels natural, even for the more awkward characters like Javor, and does the writing justice.
The drama is a little cheesy, but it's woven well enough into the story to keep the momentum going. I could also go on about how clever the editing and shot composition are, but the bottom line is that Cowboys is good stuff.
#4 - A Wonderful Night in Split
2004, neo-noir, Arsen Anton Ostojić
This is my personal favourite film on the list, and the one to have convinced me it can be made. It has the same trait that made me fall in love with Fantastic Mr. Fox and Jester's Tale: the feeling of an individual artist just doing what he loves, naysayers be damned. It shows in its every individual aspect, but more importantly, how they all mesh together to create a vibrant Gestalt. Almost to the point that I'm not doing it any favours by picking it apart.
There's three stories taking place on new year's eve, all somehow relating to the drug dealer Crni. They're told in a non-linear fashion, and all lead into each other in some way. We hear the new year's countdown multiple times, come across the same homeless guy with a number of different characters, and by the end, you'll feel like you've lived in this place and known these people for years. It creates a sense of comfort among the darkness.
The visual style gives off the same effect. Every shot feels like an adaptation of a grim post-war painting, done in striking black-and-white, and with very carefully considered composition and lighting. It's shot almost entirely in Varoš, Split's old residential area, with its typically cosy mediterranean narrow streets and stone walls. You get a number of shots floating above the streets like a ghost, transitioning from one character to another. It's an absolute work of art and the best-looking movie on the list, bar none.
Finally, this is just a personal thing, but A Wonderful Night in Split reminds me of the golden age of Croatian pop culture. It opened the floodgate for memories of Dino Dvornik, TBF, Rafo, Serious Sam, Laku Noć Hrvatska, Stipe Mesić, and everything we lost after getting acnschlussed by the EU. It might as well, because we're never getting anything like this again.
#3 - Pretty Village, Pretty Flame
1996, dark comedy, Srđan Dragojević
Post-war movies like Armin owe their success to taking a sober, subtle approach to their themes. Pretty Village, Pretty Flame does the exact opposite.
It is similar to Come and See in the sense that it's just people trying to survive a war, and even features a subplot about two friends being made enemies, but the difference is that while Come and See is about the stress of war, this film is about the madness. The characters spend the duration of the plot in a haze of bloodlust, burning villages and toying with their trapped enemies. It doesn't spell it out for you that what they're doing is bad; it respects you enough to let you infer that for yourself. That's what allows it to delve into dark humour. It comes from the characters deliberately trying to make each other laugh, with the exchange of lulz even taking place between the serbs and bosnians. Normally, humour in this type of movie would kill the mood, but here, it just adds to the sense of madness.
Think about it. How many filmmakers would have the balls to attempt something like this, let alone pull it off?
#2 - H-8...
1958, disaster thriller, Nikola Tanhofer
H-8... is a rare example of an unusual idea being executed perfectly on its first try.
It came at a time when thrillers were just coming into their own as a genre, but there's a fundamental difference that makes H-8... stand out even today. The disaster in question is just a bus crash in which only 6 people died, but it's not about the bus, it's about the people. To refer to the famous Stalin quote - ''the death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic'' - H-8... is decidedly a tragedy.
The intro sequence tells you that people will die, but it doesn't tell you who exactly dies. From then on, it keeps you hooked with the character interactions, building a human, believable ensemble cast. They're like an attempt to cover every aspect of humanity. There's a young man trying to win over a girl, an unhappily married couple, an old man frustrated with his disconnection from the rest of the world, so on and so forth, and their personalities and interactions are so realistic, they effortlessly draw you into the setting, leaving you to be just as blindsided by the crash as the characters themselves. It's such a slick way to handle the theme of death.
Of course, the realism doesn't take away from the pizzazz at all. The dialogue that takes up the vast majority of the movie is sharp enough to cut through steel. There wasn't a single line that bored me.
Thrillers have grown as a genre since 1958, but H-8...'s elegance and uniqueness make it truly timeless.
Special mention - Surogat
1961, surreal comedy, Dušan Vukotić
I went back and forth about including this one. You often see Hedgehog in the Fog on top 10 lists of Russian movies, so I guess animated shorts aren't completely haram, but is Surogat really good enough to warrant such a deviation?
By our standards, it is, but using it to fill out a spot felt cheap, so here it is as a special mention. I figured it still deserves to be brought up.
There's no denying there was some influence from the UPA cartoons, with how the simple and abstract the art style is, but Surogat manages to give it more consistent internal logic. The world is bizzare, sure, but you can still understand the way it functions. To add to that consistency, all the sight gags take full advantage of the art style. It's really hard to explain, it's better of just viewed, but every design quirk gets used in some way.
There's a sense of rhythm and precision to the animation, like a visualization of a catchy jazz song. Chuck Jones, the greatest of all animators, said that good animation should take inspiration from real life, and that's definitely on display here, as the inspiration from jazz, old yugoslavian culture and the way Purgers act on vacation gives it personality. The execution isn't quite on Chuck's level, but it's well within the ranks of Genndy Tartakovsky.
I'm a big fan of classic cartoons. I'll watch them any time, provided nobody's looking, and I'm glad we got to make one that's not just good, but great.
#1 - No Man's Land
2001, war drama, Danis Tanović
This is the one that won the Oscar. That's what it's famous for, which sadly overshadows how great the it is.
There's been a trillion anti-war movies throughout all the countries and the time periods, but this is the one I'd point to as an example of speaking from the heart. Everyone - the director, the actors, the composers, the cinematographer - had the exact same thing in mind: frustration.
That frustration is driven home by a story of soldiers trying to escape a trench - one is a serb, one is a bosnian, and one is laying on a landmine that'll explode if he gets up. It's a situation that gives you time to think, but what are they supposed to do here? They can't run for help because they'll get shot, the French unit sent to rescue them doesn't care, and the British journalist is just here for the juicy story. With how it paces its glimmers of hope and the dashings thereof, it makes its 90 minutes feel like an eternity.
What I also appreciate is how it focuses on the human aspect of war. Both Čiki and Nino are just average joes who weren't mentally prepared for the heat of war, so it completely threw them off. They go from animosity to apathy to frinedly chitchat at the drop of a hat. It all feels like natural, human confusion that'd come about in such a weird situation. Also, Rene Bitorajac's performance as Nino was in itself worth a second Oscar.
The war takes place in a sunny plain. It doesn't make you want to kill Serbs, it makes you want to have a picnic. It goes to the same end as the characters, but it also gives the movie a dash of dark humour.
You can argue that it's not as unique as H-8, as artistic as A Wonderful Night in Split or as edgy as Pretty Village, Pretty Flame, but the fact of the matter is that No Man's Land is objectively the best movie to ever come out of ex-Yugoslavia. It's the only one that could be considered for a 10/10.
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I'm the Yugoslav cinema guy. I dig through garbage. I look for gems.
I'm the Yugoslav cinema guy. I dig through garbage. I look for gems.