A Serbian Film Review

It’s a shame there’s so much controversy surrounding this film. All the publicity is going to have the doubly negative effect of attracting macho types who’ll see it as the next gory notch in their horror-viewing bedpost, and repelling potential viewers who’ll simply dismiss it as exploitive and gratuitous. And this film is none of those things.

Scriptwriter Aleksandar Radivojevic describes A Serbian Film as “a diary of our molestation by the Serbian government… It’s about the monolithic power of leaders who hypnotise you to do things you don’t want to do”.

A Serbian Film contains horrific material without being horror, and is set in the world of pornography without being porn. A genuine attempt to convey the filmmakers’ frustration and anger over Serbia’s regime, it is a compelling comment on exploitation that narrowly but cleverly avoids becoming the very thing it is condemning.

Debut director Srdjan Spasojevic does this by eschewing any of the dramatic devices that create excitement and titillation – anything that could possibly make this experience entertaining – and instead takes us on a grimly horrible and thought-provoking journey. Masterfully restrained and well-composed cinematography, convincing performances (particularly from lead Srdjan Todorovic) and a sinister, droning musical score all combine to create an atmosphere of oppression and futility.

The plot, following retired porn star and family man Milos on his unwilling descent into almost unscreenable hell, is arranged in a way that makes it impossible for him to escape the appalling realisation of what he is capable of. And the film’s slow, gentle introduction to Milos as all-round regular family guy makes it very easy for us to identify with him, meaning we can’t escape to the safety of the moral high ground when things get rough.

“The violation, humiliation and ultimate degradation of our being must be felt and experienced by every viewer so that it cannot be ignored,” say the film’s makers. “You may call it torture-porn, but to us it is our life.”

Yes, it’s extreme, brutally honest, relentless and uncompromising, and yes, you will see all the things you’ve no doubt heard about. Watching this film is a harrowing experience. But setting this comment within the world of pornography and taking the story to its terrible limits says a lot more about the Serbian artists’ desperate state of mind than any documentary or smugly self-righteous ‘based-on-a-true-story’ film ever could.

One could also argue that the allegory works in reverse too, as a condemnation of the voyeuristic pleasure we take in the exploitive nature of these genres.

Thanks to the censorship of the British Board of Film Classification, this film has lost almost 50 shots totalling just over four minutes of footage. But not a single scene has been completely removed, so the ideas are still there. And it’s the ideas, not the graphic detail, that have the real impact in this film. We fill in the detail because our imaginations are sadly capable of it. One gets the impression that was the point in the original version anyway.

While A Serbian Film is not something I ever want to experience again, I found it surprisingly intelligent, articulate and deeply moving. I’m grateful the makers went to such lengths to produce it, and produce it well, and I’m glad I saw it. All the controversy and debate aside, this is simply a very good piece of filmmaking.

A Serbian Film (cert 18) will open at UK cinemas on 10th December.

Check out more on A Serbian Film here: http://www.cult-labs.com/aserbianfilm/

Kathy Alys

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