HEIMWEH: THE ERVIN TAHIROVIC INTERVIEW

In 1992, Ervin Tahirovic was 10 years old when his hometown of Foča was all but destroyed by invading forces during The Bosnian War. An idyllic rural existence, strong community ties and enriching family life was torn away from Tahirovic, who fled with his family, ultimately resettling in Vienna. Twenty-one years later, Ervin Tahirovic was overwhelmed with the need to reconnect with his roots and returned to Foča; his feature directorial debut Heimweh (Nostalgia) documents his quest to reconcile the fading memories of his past with the sadness of his present. As Heimweh continues its festival circuit rollout (it premiered in December at the Sarajevo International Film Festival and recently sold out two sessions at Austria’s prestigious Diagonale event), SCREEN-SPACE spoke with Ervin Tahirovic about his experience making the film, a work that is one of the most moving accounts of the complexities of a displaced person’s struggle ever filmed…

SCREEN-SPACE: Why did you need to make this journey at this point in your life? What compelled you, at an age when most young men are focused on career and adventure and romance, to re-engage with your past?

TAHIROVIC: I always had the feeling that something was holding me back and that I couldn't really progress in my life because of that. It took me 20 years to rebuild a ‘normal’ life, to have a steady job, a serious relationship with someone. I think that at this point, where I thought that everything was fixed and ‘like it should be’, I somehow realized that something was still painfully wrong. There was something deep inside me that made me so unhappy and unbalanced, so that after a while, the only thing I thought about anymore was the question "what the hell is wrong with me?". In my mind, there was no serious space for a career, girls, or anything else that ‘normal’ people do, I couldn't enjoy these things at all. There was just this pain in my soul and recurring nightmares about Foča, and I just had to find out if and how these two are connected to each other.

SCREEN-SPACE: What aspect of your journey back into your homeland proved most warmly familiar? 

TAHIROVIC: Everything there was familiar, and everything was still so deeply engraved in my heart and gave me this feeling of coming home, that I have forgotten so long ago. As soon as I saw my mountains, my river and as I heard that certain dialect the people speak in the region around Foča, I was blown away. So many emotions came back at once, that I simply wasn't able to process them cognitively, they just threw me back into being a child again, and for the first time in 20 years I felt that everything is going to be alright. I somehow felt a calm and knew that from this point on everything will change in my life. (Pictured, right; Tahirovic overlooking his hometown, Foča)

SCREEN-SPACE: And what, in hindsight, was the most surprising, even shocking?

TAHIROVIC: The most shocking thing was the realization that I'm really traumatized, and that that's the reason why I always felt so unhappy and wrong. It felt as if I'd awakened from a deep dream in which I lived for years, only to realize that in the meantime I have lost ‘my life’ and that I'm scarred for life. That was a hard thing to swallow. When I returned to Vienna, I got very sick because my thyroid completely broke down and I had to take some serious medicine for about three months; my heart was regularly skipping beats, which was a very scary feeling. My doctor said, “Whatever you did, you freaked out your body so much it's now trying to eat itself.”

SCREEN-SPACE: Without a horrible war to put the country in the headlines, western audiences know little about contemporary life in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Was it ever an aim of yours to convey a fresh perspective on your homeland? 

TAHIROVIC: Not really, I didn't know that much about contemporary Bosnia before I returned there. I wanted to return with the memory I had of it and let everything that has changed surprise me. The concept was to do no research but to be naive and to catch up with time by exploring the surroundings and meeting people. (Pictured, above; an emotional moment for Tahirovic, in Heimweh)

SCREEN-SPACE: While it is a deeply personal film - one man’s story, set in a specific region with specific history - it is also a narrative that embraces classic pilgrimage mythology; of returning home, rediscovering and defining oneself by seeking out a lost past. 

TAHIROVIC: I tried hard to make this film follow a classic ‘hero’s journey’ plot, It was obvious to me that it is the right format for this story, even though it is unusual to use this kind of plot in documentaries. And this kind of plot is indeed very old, because humans always used to lose their homes and had to keep telling these kinds of stories to save their identity from breaking apart. Not long ago, I read in a Bosnian newspaper that more than the half of Bosnian citizens are not in the country, but spread all around the world. They are foremost the audience I would like to reach with this film. I want every Bosnian to know about this movie, because there are so many out there who never returned to their homeland and probably never will and I would like to inform all of them how important and beautiful it can be to return home. (Pictured, above; Tahirovic rediscovering his hometown of Foča)

SCREEN-SPACE: What do you hope your film will convey about the experience of the many displaced persons in the world today?

TAHIROVIC: Of course, I would like to reach other refugees with the same problem, no matter where they are from. I think that's the realistic part of what I can hope for the film. And then there is this unrealistic part, where I hope that the people who hate refugees and blame them for everything, see this film and understand that refugees are not some kind of ‘bad tourists’, but people who have often suffered the unspeakable and now need love and all the help they can get. At this right-winged time in Europe, that would be my greatest wish.

KANGAROO A LOVE/HATE STORY: THE KATE MCINTYRE-CLERE INTERVIEW

The directing team of Kate McIntyre-Clere and her husband Michael have travelled the world with their searing expose Kangaroo A Love/Hate Story, a challenging documentary that examines Australia’s complex, often exploitative relationship with its national icon, the kangaroo. The film has drawn protests from culling industry advocates, who are determined to expand import markets and don’t need footage revealing a multi-million dollar industry steeped in misinformation and cruelty. With their film now in Australian cinemas, SCREEN-SPACE spoke to Kate McIntyre-Clere about some of the hotbed issues raised in her fearless film (WARNING: Some content is of a graphic nature)…

SCREEN-SPACE: When did you and Michael become aware of the breadth of issues faced by the kangaroo population?

McINTYRE-CLERE: We set out to explore the wonder of this magnificent and unique animal. We knew opinion was split and that would make an interesting story but once we started the research and interviews we were surprised to learn that millions of kangaroos are shot each year and sold for profit. It seemed incongruous to us that Australians, who are immensely proud to hold up the kangaroo as their beloved national symbol, would sanction their nightly killing, with so little interest in questioning what is going on.

SCREEN-SPACE: There would be a global outcry if your footage - killing of young animals, often still on the teat; killing of breeding females - impacted any other form of wildlife. Why are those in power largely turning a blind eye in the case of the kangaroo?

McINTYRE-CLERE: That is the question the Australian public need to be asking their government: to come clean about all the permitted killing of kangaroos that is happening across the country. We think Australians do not know that killing kangaroos is the largest terrestrial wildlife kill on the planet. Or that kangaroos are killed and eviscerated in the bush and carried on the back of open trucks through the dusty tracks for hours until refrigeration. Most Australians do not know how cruelly the baby joeys are treated, or how many kangaroos are mis-shot and left to die from horrific injuries. We believe Australians will be shocked to hear how their beloved national emblem is being sold for pet food, sausages and soccer boots. It’s time they did hear. We have found from making the film that the government and civil society has let the kangaroo down. (Pictured, above: Kate McIntyre-Clere)

SCREEN-SPACE: Was there ever a concern that some of the content might just be too much for your average viewer?

McINTYRE-CLERE: Every shot was discussed fully. We decided that the audience needed to witness what is happening to kangaroos. Much of the footage has been stylised, leaving the audience with an impression rather than the gruesome details. We left many more violent images out of the film.

SCREEN-SPACE: Have you been surprised by the coverage from some mainstream media? Several outlets have sided with the industry and sought to discredit the claims you present.

McINTYRE-CLERE: It is a much more balanced film than some press have stated, but it seems to have hit a sensitive nerve. We worked to get a cross section of voices, including politicians, scientists, farmers, shooters, kangaroo industry leaders and indigenous Australians. If the audience doubts the treatment of kangaroos or if people have strong opinions, we recommend they see the film to learn more and make up their own minds. There is very little open discussion in mainstream media of the population (levels), hygiene or cruelty surrounding our misuse of our wildlife.

SCREEN-SPACE: How are US audiences, who perhaps see the kangaroo as a more mythical, iconic creature, reacting to the film?

McINTYRE-CLERE: The film was very well received and got rave reviews from the press including The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and Variety. The US audiences were shocked to learn how Australians treat their national icon. They have no idea that kangaroos are killed, often treated as pests instead of the wildlife they are and exported for pet food, human consumption and leather goods. Some states have very strict laws about the importation of wildlife so there was concern about this at government levels.

SCREEN-SPACE: Disregard for our iconic wildlife is not without precedent – koalas only exist is pockets of population due to deforestation. What action needs to be taken to ensure the best outcome for the kangaroo population?

McINTYRE-CLERE: Interestingly, the kangaroo is similar to the koala in its low slow breeding capacity, and kangaroo’s woodland and shrub land habitat has also been cleared since colonisation. We want Australians to be interested in the treatment and future of the kangaroos. We want them to notice when kangaroos are no longer in areas and be more critical and knowledgeable. We hope to initiate a robust, transparent, national conversation that brings together all concerned scientists, indigenous people, land owners, politicians, animal activists, citizens and give the kangaroo the respect it deserves as our national icon that has lived on this continent for 25 million years. (Pictured, above: Kate and husband/co-director, Mike McIntyre, with their star) 

SCREEN-SPACE: What might be the worst outcome?

McINTYRE-CLERE: Australia already has the highest loss of biodiversity in the world after Indonesia, and the highest rate of terrestrial mammal extinctions in the last few hundred years. Kangaroos are slow-growing, have low fecundity and high juvenile mortality.  Their habitat continues to be cleared and environment damaged, and industrial-scale killing has only got more efficient and organised since colonisation. When people see a mob of kangaroos in a video or image and don’t notice the rest of the landscape is completely empty, then perhaps that is the disturbing answer to this question. As filmmakers, we think the worst possible outcome is we sit on our hands and don’t do anything.

KANGAROO A LOVE/HATE STORY is in Australian cinemas now.

PREVIEW: 2018 BRUSSELS INDEPENDENT FILM FESTIVAL

Two short films from the distant shores of Australia are amongst the line-up of the 2018 Brussels Independent Film Festival, which relaunches after a six year hiatus in Belgium’s de jure capital this weekend. Morteza Halimi’s animation Drifting Away, an ethereal, dream-state ode to cubism and sportscars, and Melina Maraki’s moody retail space thriller Tricks, already an international festival circuit favourite, will vie for festival honours from the week-long program comprising 67 films culled from over 2000 submissions from 23 countries.

The re-emergence of the Brussels Independent Film Festival is cause for celebration amongst auteurs whose works have a more idiosyncratic, individualistic aesthetic. Founded in 1974 as the Festival International du Film Independent de Bruxelles, its primary aim was to celebrate experimental cinema shot on Super-8 film, before expanding its vision to include many different forms of cutting-edge filmmaking styles. It ran in its original incarnation for 38 years, during which it welcomed the likes of Pedro Almodovar, Francois Ozon and Nanni Moretti, before funding and resource shortfalls forced its closure in 2012.

In addition to the two-pronged Australian contingent, the 2018 roster of films includes the World Premiere of Anshul Chaunan’s Bad Poetry Tokyo, starring Shuna Iijima as a broken woman reconnecting with her past in countryside Japan; a Valentine Day session of Brazillian Luciana Canton’s confronting examination of modern sexual mores, Public Intimacy (pictured, left); competitive-eating legend-turned-offbeat film visionary Crazy Legs Conti’s cult short Soulfinger vs Goldfinger, which stars Denzel Washington and Al Pacino, somehow; co-directors Mark Olexa and Francesca Scalisi’s Half-Life in Fukushima, a documentary on farming practices in Japan’s radiation red zone; and, Belgian filmmaker Nathalie Teirlinck’s feature Past Imperfect, the story of a high-level escort forced to suddenly deal with the responsibilities of motherhood.

The Brussels Independent Film Festival has also paired with the arts initiative l’Heure d’Hiver (Winter Time) to present the Belgian premiere of Flatland, a video installation by Iranian artists Alireza Keymanesh and Amir Pousti. The special presentation runs in conjunction with a series of short films from the Islamic Republic of Iran, including Anahita Ghazvinizadeh’s When a Kid Was a Kid, Omid Adibparvar’s Die Hard and Asma Ebrahimzadegan’s Common Hole.

The competition categories are spread across all forms and disciplines, with festival organisers set to honour Best Narrative Feature Film, Best Documentary Feature Film, Best Narrative Short Film, Best Documentary Short Film, Best Animated Film, Best Experimental Film and Best Belgian Film. The trophy awarded to prize winners is one of the most coveted European festival gongs; the seven winners will receive their own edible monument to the national landmark The Atomium, crafted from 100% Belgian chocolate by local culinary legend Wim Vyverman.

The Brussels Independent Film Festival runs February 11 to 18. Admission is free of charge at the event’s screening venues, the Atomium (Atomiumsquare, 1020) and Cinema Galeries (Galerie de la Reine 26, 1000; pictured, above).

THE WIDOWED WITCH TAKES TIGER TROPHY AT IFFR 2018

The 2018 Hivos Tiger trophy for Best Film at the 47^th International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) has been awarded to Cai Chengjie’s The Widowed Witch. In a statement issued by the official Jury, Chengjie’s remarkably assured debut feature, “is a film of epic dimensions with a narrative that is greater than one person or moment. Its bold vision, created by a lyrical layering of cinematographic elements, makes [the] film stand out.”

Also singled out from the eight films in contention for the Tiger honour was Muayad Alayan’s The Reports on Sarah and Saleem. Screenwriter Rami Alayan earned a Special Jury Award for the personal and politically charged drama, the Jury declaring, “The screenplay intertwines the personal and the political and it manages to balance a complex plot with convincing characters.” An international co-production between Palestine, The Netherlands, Germany and Mexico, the film also won the coveted Hubert Bals Fund Audience Award, a €10,000 cash prize named after the late festival founder. (Pictured, below: IFFR 2018 winners include, from clockwise, The Widowed Witch, The Reports on Sarah and Saleem, Nina, Azougue Nazaré)

The Bright Future Award, a €10,000 endowment to a first time feature director, went to Tiago Melo’s mystical Brazilian drama Azougue Nazare, a work that employed a non-pro cast from the film's remote location. Malene Choi Jensen’s The Return was also singled out by the Jury for Special Mention for its depiction of, “a personal quest [that] gradually transforms into a reflection on loneliness, belonging, and existential homecoming.”

The most popular film of IFFR 2018 was Gustav Möller’s The Guilty (pictured, right), which took out two honours – the highly-prized Audience Award and the Youth Jury Award. The tense police procedural subverted plot and genre conventions to deliver a thriller which delivered, in the words of the Youth Jury members, “a master class in suspense.” From a program of 20 short films from 18 countries, Oscar Hudson’s Joy in People took out Voices Short Audience Award.

The other audience honour is the VPRO Big Screen Award, chosen by a jury of five audience members that ensures the winning film plays in Dutch theatres and is broadcast on national television. In 2018, that film was Nina, from Polish filmmaker Olga Chajdas.

The local filmmaker chosen by the Circle of Dutch Film Journalists as the festival’s Best Dutch, or Dutch co-produced work was Lucrecia Martel’s Zama. The body of international critics deciding upon this year’s Fédération Internationale de la Presse Cinématographique (FIPRESCI) honour chose Ere Gowda’s charming Kanarees language Balekempa. 

The NETPAC Award for Best Asian film having its World Premiere at IFFR 2018 was Shireen Seno’s Nervous Translation. The NETPAC Jury stated, “its singularly original representation of childhood beautifully captures a unique view full of contradictory interactions, introspection, social and political dissonance, and disquietude. With this film, the director has succeeded in creating an unforgettable cinematic universe.”

The Found Footage Award, an inaugural category introduced to honour those filmmakers employing archive or recycled footage to create fresh narratives, was awarded Slovenian Nika Autor’s mid-length feature, Newsreel 63: The Train of Shadows. 

Festival director Bero Beyer (pictured, right) thanked, “The crazy, daring, outspoken and warm people” of both IFFR and Rotterdam for ensuring the event reached new heights. Several aspects of past festivals were reworked and relaunched in 2018, most notably the Cinemart professional marketplace. The festival has one full day of screenings left before Armando Iannucci’s The Death of Stalin closes out the 2018 program.

INSECTS: THE JAN ŠVANKMAJER INTERVIEW

Terry Gilliam says the surrealistic masterpieces of Jan Švankmajer are, “magical, because they make reality mysterious.” One of the most unique visual artists that world cinema has ever known, the Czech visionary defied the strict regime of his homeland with a wave of subversive short films throughout 60s and 70s. When censorship eased in the mid-80s, Švankmajer directed such unclassifiable, often nightmarish features as the Lewis Carroll reinterpretation, Alice (1988); an unforgettable vision of the classic tale, Faust (1994); perhaps his masterwork, Conspirators of Pleasure (1996); and, his family drama Little Otik (2000), in which a husband and wife raise a tree root as their own.

The International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR) welcomed the 83 year-old master for the World Premiere of his first feature in eight years, Insects (Hmyz). Based upon the 1922 play by brothers Karel and Josef Capek, Švankmajer focuses on the group of amateur theatre players trying to resurrect the text, yet find theimselves being torn asunder by jealousy, greed, ego…and bugs. The director broke away from a Czech Film Industry function to sit with SCREEN-SPACE and discuss (via translator) his latest mesmerizing film…

SCREEN-SPACE: You are returning to material that you first explored back in 1970. What makes it relevant and still creatively satisfying to you in 2018?

ŠVANKMAJER: This was one of many, many ideas and subjects that I wasn’t allowed shoot back in the 1970s because of the regime and the strict censorship. The 1970s was a very fruitful, very creative time for me. Ideas were just flowing from me, so many interesting stories that I admit I took for granted back then. So I just put those interesting stories into my drawer, a very big drawer, and now, or more accurately from about the 90s onwards, I have been revisiting them one by one and shooting the movies. Of course, certain details have changed from what I envisioned back in the 70s, but the themes and characters are still very relevant to me. I’m not interested in fleeting themes, but material that is deeper and constant in all our lives. It was just my good luck that I stashed them in these drawers around my home, so that I could eventually open those drawers and use the ideas of a younger man to tell stories as an older one. (Pictured, above; a scene from Insects)

SCREEN-SPACE: I find those comments interesting because I found this is to be one of your most buoyant, even playful films, as if you are enjoying the storytelling process with renewed vigour.

ŠVANKMAJER: It is certainly true that I did enjoy the process and that the material inspired new creativity in me, which is perhaps what you have sensed when watching the film. But I don’t think ‘playful’ is the right word. Thematically, the film is actually one of the darkest I have ever made. There is humour, but to observe it more closely it casts a very dark perspective, seeks out the very darkest edges of our persona. I don’t want anyone going into this film thinking they will find the light humour you may find in an American film (laughs). (Pictured, above; Svankmajer, left, directing actor Jirí Lábus in Insects)

SCREEN-SPACE: Your decision to top-and-tail the film with your own direct-to-camera thoughts, as you say in the film like a foreword from a book’s author, is an inspired device. Was that always in the script or did it become apparent that the film needed context as the final edit drew near?

ŠVANKMAJER: Neither, frankly. Not back in the 70s nor recently when I was rewriting the original story to accommodate some new scenarios. Those moments in the film that adopt a documentary aesthetic or the scenes when the actors are relating their dreams are not passages you can conjure in script form. Those are moments that arise during the creative process on-set

SCREEN-SPACE: You draw from the Capek Brothers play, of course, and Kafka’s Metamorphoses. But I also noted Fellini-esque flourishes. What other filmmakers, artists, authors still inspire your work?

ŠVANKMAJER: I love Fellini! I still often think about his work, I have to admit. La Strada is wonderful, although Armacord is closest to my heart. But Fellini can be for me, and certainly for this project, too ornamental, too busy. Do you understand? I think the strongest influence on Insect was Bunuel. He is very close to my heart. 

SCREEN-SPACE: The online diary that wrote while in production gives fascinating insight into your directing methodology. I read with interest the passage, “I direct them as if they were puppets in an animated film…”

ŠVANKMAJER: (Laughs) I’m making imaginative films, works that draw upon specific imagery not always of this world. These are not ‘actor’ films; the story, and so much more, that is important to the film I want to make is not necessarily the responsibility of the cast. Each aspect of the production is equally crucial to what I want to make as any other aspect. Costumes, sound, editing – all those things have to combine for my films to work. My actors always take some time to get used my sets, because the way I make my films is something different. I play with them to get the effect, the end result that I need. I am their puppet master.