Life is hard and every possible comfort is welcome; and the beauty of consolation can also be found in synchronicities, albeit primarily when they point to something valid enough or when they can be recognized at least as harbingers of good news that awaits us in the foreseeable future. A generational-film-filmophile synchronicity sounds and reads like this - at this fall's Festival of the American independent film Indie-go in Belgrade's Dom omladine, a feature-length production was also shown Good girl (Good one), with which India Donaldson made her debut in the field of feature-length and apparently low-budget films. This film occupies notable positions on the lists of critics and critics' associations, and it is particularly interesting that Donaldson decided to To a good girl the drive for activism, which is somehow naturally identified with young films, especially those with an arthouse profile, is primarily linked to the motif of the fragility of mental health.
In the film, a significant role (one of the three main ones) is played by James Legros, a recognizable and reliable name of the American independent film for more than three decades; for the sake of truth and honesty, we must also state that India is the daughter of the Australian and American director Roger Donaldson (Bounty, No way out, Cocktail, White sand, Types, Bank robbery...), which certainly made her path to this debut at least to some extent easier. On the trail of the story about another exemplary example of synchronicity (in the sphere of film and popular culture) we have a young Serbian film from Friš The sun never again, with which the very young local director David Jovanović made his debut in the field of full-length feature films. The so-called activism, in connection with this climate and our unhappy and even desperate now, in its first form is embodied in a concrete struggle for the ecological, but above all, the mere existential and biological survival of those who live and somehow struggle and struggle to survive in these areas. Aside from the conditioning of distant cultures and social specifics, let's also mention that where India Donaldson reaches out for the revitalization of the heritage of American mumblecore film (with a fair amount of additional cinematic refinement, suitable for the current moment, that is, fifteen years after the sudden invasion of mumblecore production in the USA), David Jovanović chooses naturalism, with emphasized aestheticization as visible decoration, which The sun never again consistently places it in the gable of contemporary arthouse/festival film. And we will mention that in this Serbian film we have the support of experienced actors (Svetozar Cvetković, Nataša Marković, Radovan Miljanić, and there is the still young but already noticed and sought-after Joakim Tasić).
Qualitatively, India Donaldson's film is in the lead in this forced and somewhat excessive comparison, which of course does not mean that Jovanovic's film (in other words, in terms of world premiere, shown in the official program of the festival in Tallinn, while the Serbian film was in the "Brave Balkans" segment of the 30th Festival author's film in Belgrade) has nothing to offer or say.
On the level of a probably deliberately sparse plot, this film tells the story of a turbulent period in the life of a child growing up in a family living on the edge of a mining basin in the Bor area, with the constant threat of relocation, or perhaps the necessary sale of the house and household to an investor, which, by the nature of its to be, to expand and progress. With that The sun never again officially becomes the first film dealing with the subject of the so-called sacrificed territory. It is certainly a potent motive, activist relevant, and in its essence also cinematic. However, we have to mention that this Sun... then deals with the horrors of re-industrialization, while, for example, Makavejev's Man does not belong, in a sufficiently easily and quickly noticeable depth of frame, dealt with the sub-theme of industrialization in that particular geographical corner of Serbia. It is worth pausing here and pointing out that a few years ago, young David Jovanović was also the producer of the feature film debut of his colleague Nina Ognjanović. The road will pass here, which also touched on a similar problem - this century's modernization of spaces and communities whose inhabitants are not really up to it, although they are aware that it is definitely a revolutionary moment in their lives. And while Nina Ognjanović found her stylistic origin in the aspect of expression in the strange and absurdist comedy of the local dominant natures, Jovanović reads the questions of civilian life under the heavy and ominous shadow of the newly vampirized (and without further discussion) mining in this film of his, in the key of a coming-of-age drama, let's emphasize and that, according to the accelerated procedure.
The stakes in this setting are high, and the room for maneuver for freedom and free action may be irretrievably narrow; if we narrow the visor to the family, which is the narrative focus of this broader social chronicle, things are roughly like this: the father would like to stay on his land (hence the quixotic insistence on building a greenhouse that will bear fruit only when the estate and their lives there it will be official and finally too late), the mother would like everything to be sold while the price is still favorable, and the boy would simply, as much as possible, to get to know and study the world that is just beginning to open up to him it opens to its fullness before curious and, of course, honest eyes. In addition, we follow the dynamics of the life of the community in the face of more or less the same temptations, and that atmosphere, let's label it with the phrase, combative defeatism, those still undead/unsuppressed damas who push for a new attempt to defend themselves against the inexorable, even when it is evident too late, we can also see it as a kind of variation on a sub-motif known from the history of film - primarily from the legacy of westerns; in that regard, The sun never again it could also be labeled as a Balkan/Eastern European western, albeit unequivocally devoid of dramatic action segments and action momentum. The emphasis is precisely on that inevitable wrestling with the heavy burden of the fateful lottery, and that angle of looking at the drama of standing in a convulsive attempt is universally understandable and present in a life that was largely spent in search of an essential and as tangible as possible freedom of choice and making as free decisions as possible. It leads to an association with, for example, what we find as part of the existential, mental and spiritual struggle fought by Roz, the main character of the short novel Royal Rose by Nikola Matjea (translated by Olja Petronić, published by Academic Book this year): "Roz had the impression that many decisions were made against her will. The logic of 'day by day' took its toll and every change was the result of compromise, fatigue or politeness. When everything is taken into account, that law of inertia, of rolling down the slope, was enough to explain almost everything".
Bearing in mind the unequivocally emphasized naturalistic expression as a framework approach (truth, skillfully and thoughtfully, as well as extremely appropriately unusual with the striking artistry of the film image and the influence of additional color on it, which is the merit of director of photography Mladen Teofilović and colorist Nikola Marinković, who for their achievements on this film awarded precisely at the 30th FAF), it is interesting that Sun... still leaves the strongest impression when it enters the more abstract, lyrical and ethereal "waters". It must be admitted that the story enters the desired rhythm more slowly and with visible hesitations, that the available minutes (and this is another of the more or less spontaneous young films, created despite the current circumstances in Serbian cinematography) does not provide enough space to reach the always welcome and a full emotional crescendo…
However, a young and, here it is simply indisputable, a brave film has to be judged by somewhat different and milder standards than better-off or, by far, state-building productions and their accomplishments. The sun never again is, in all its disarray, a sound and true argument in support of the thesis about the unshakable vitality of young Serbian film, especially since it clearly problematizes the difficulty of life in the atari of the mentioned sacrificed territories, which, on top of everything else, also provides a dimension of purposeful politics, and what then perhaps opens a new thematic-motive chapter in contemporary Serbian film. And besides, as is the case with A good girl India Donaldson, and Jovanovic Sun... at the end of the day, it is a valid and sufficiently convincing pledge for the future and future works of its author, who is just at the beginning of his creative journey.