Ne vjerujem da postoji ijedan biznis na svijetu koji je stilizovao samog sebe kao industriju - jer samo producenti i režiseri insisitiraju da se film naziva “biznisom” ili “industrijom” – gdje ljudi tako kavaljerski unajmljuju specijaliste po ogromnoj cijeni da bi se onda posvetili podrivanju rada onih specijalista koje su unajmili.

Joseph Los

Moja kreativna misao ima višstruke izraze: fotografija, film, instalacije – iznad svega, mašta – i nekoliko načina percepiranja, imam fotografsku percepciju. Pišem. Pišem svioje filmove. Kombinujem istorijska djela sa fantazijom. I slobodna sam da mogu tako da mislim. Ili da ne mislim ni o čemu. Sjećanje mi dolazi dok živim.  

Mislim da dok pišemo scenario, ne smijemo znati. Likovi moraju imati svoju autonomiju. Postoje opcije, a zastrašujuća pouka je : svi smo jedinstveni, ali zamjenjivi. Drštvo funkcioniše najbolje kad je svako na svom mjestu.

Agnes Varda

Ko je publika? Oni su mi.

Mi, filmski, kritičari, obično nagrađujemo filmove koji donose estetske inovacije i doprinose promjeni naših društvenih percepcija ili podizanju naše društvene svijesti o (manje-više) pionirskim temama, koje se odnose na one društveno marginalizovane, na rubu društva, «nevidljive ili manje vidjljive » koji postaju vidljivi upravo zahvaljujuči filmskom univerzumu. Ali da li mi, filmski kritičari i filmski autori (koji snimaju takve filmove), primjećujemo « ove manje vidljive ljude » na filmskim festivalima, koji su oko nas usred crveno-tepihnog glamura i sjaja ? Ogromnu armiju logističara, tehničara, uslužnog osoblja, čistačice, volontere ili ljude u publici, bez kojih festivali ne bi postojali ili bi, makar, bili manje zabavni ? Rijetko ili samo povremeno. Niko ne primjećuje ove ljude, iako smo tek izašli sa filma o siromašnom siročetu, isrcpljenoj čistačici/samohranoj majci, mladoj osobi bez osnovnih ljudskih prava itd. Ja ne mogu a da ih ne primijetim. Jednom sam na nekom festivalu čak i ponudila vidljivo umornoj konobarici moju « volontersku » pomoć u pranju suđa. Učtivo je odbila moju pomoć, a njeno lice se razvuklo u široki iznenandni osmjeh zahvalnosti. Kad se nasmijala, lice je opet zračilo ljudskošću, zato što je neko primjetio njen rad. Nikada neću zaboraviti taj osmjeh zahvalnosti, ne zato što sam pomogla, nego samo zato što sam primijetila njeno postojanje. Kakva je svrha snimanja takvih filmova koje inspiriše stvarnost, ako mi sami ne primjećujemo tu stvarnost ?

Mnogi filmski profesionalci industrije su previše zauzeti razgovorom o novcu da bi primijetili ljude oko njih, upravo ljude o kojima će možda snimiti film. Hitniji je « dragocjeni » razgovor o finansiranju, pitchingu i tzv. projektima razvoja. A, obično, marginalizovane grupe, i unutar i van industrije su – žene. Žene iz svih zemalja, različitih nacionalnosti, rasa, profesija, životnih sfera. Ovi industrijski ‘razgovori’ (koje ponekad slučajno čujem ali u kojima ne učestvujem) više su nalik ćaskanju Wall street bankara nego nekom smislenom razgovoru među umjetnicima. Naravno, film jeste i industrija. Ali nešto je alarmantno pogrešno ako industrija potpuno zaboravi na umjetnost ili na svoj razlog postojanja. Nešto je zastrašujuće pogrešno u današnjem stanju filma ako su novac i profit jedini ciljevi, a ne postoji niko ko bi nas podsjetio da ne bi trebalo da bude tako.

Srećom, postoji Camera Lucida koja razgovara sa umjetnicima koji nas podjsećaju na Vagabunde, beskućnike i svojim filmskim i životnim djelima. Postoji Agnes Varda, “kuma novog talasa”, kako su je nazivali, jedna od žena potpisnica čuvenog « Manifesta 343 kurve », koji je sačinila Simone de Beauvoir, a koji je doveo do revolucionarnog zakona, u nadležnosti tadašnje Ministarke zdravlja Simone Veil, koji je legalizovao abortus 1975., ili “talasa prije novog talasa”, kako je opisuje Joan Dupont u ovom ekskluzivnom i jedinstvenom intervjuu. Varda i Dupont razgovaraju o filmovima sa društvenim temama, umjetnosti (“moja kreativna misao ima višestruke izraze”), radikalnom feminizmu 1960-ih i 1970-ih (“napisala sam militantne feminističke riječi za pjesme u filmu. Bilo je važno biti militantna sa humorom, jer su nas nazivali raznim imenima, poput “frustrirane, nedojebane babetine” i “histerične profuknjače”. Moj film se pojavio baš u pravom trenutku i postao je veliki hit. Ljudi mi kažu i dan danas da im je film dao hrabrost.”), o migrantima (“danas se nalazimo u situaciji sa migrantima, mi imamo krov nad glavom i mislimo na njih, ali ne činimo ništa – baš kao kada smo napravili Daleko od Vijetnama, 1967, i željeli smo pomoći nekako, ali nismo mogli. Mi smo, dakle, nesrećni svjedoci.”), o beskućnicima, kao što je prikazano u jednom od mojih i Dupont-inih omiljenih filmova Vagabond/Sans toit ni loi (“Zanimali su me beskućnici. Zato sam otišla do njih mojim autom i pokupila bih nekoliko njih. Bili su uglavnom muškarci, ali je bilo i malo žena. I shvatila sam koliko važnosti pridajemo čistoći. Mi se možemo nositi sa siromašnima, ali bolje bi bilo da su čisti i da mirišu okej. Ovaj naglasak na čistoći me je nervirao. Vagabond je kompletan film o društvenoj temi.”), o tome kako niko ne sluša nikoga (“kad sam snimala Daguerreotypes na ulici Daguerre, prije mnogo godina, ćaskala sam sa mojim komšijama, prodavcima. Trgovina ima svoj vlastiti jezik, riječi koje ne znače mnogo. Na primjer, mesar je uvijek govorio ‘to je zbog vremena’, bez obzira o čemu se radilo. Jednog dana ušla je žena u prodavnicu koja je uzviknula ‘moj muže je imao infarkt’, a prodavac je odgovorio ‘to je zbog vremena !’. To je ta vrsta dijaloga – riječi koje ne znače ništa i niko ne sluša »), o temama žena, žena « kojima loše ide, koje posrću, o trouglovima i prevarama koje su uvijek prisutne ali neopažene ».

Postoji i Sonja Prosenc, filmska autorka koja u razgovoru sa mnom (u intervjuu prevedenom sa engleskog na srpsko-hrvatski za ovaj broj) opisuje svoje filmsko stvaralaštvo koje, dajući nova poetska rješenja, revolucionalizuje i subverzira/negira užitak gledanja naših mainstream komodifikovanih navika, analizira ‘selfie kulturu’ u kojoj živimo i gdje «čak i mi sami postajemo dopadljivi sadržaj», nagovještava potrebu snimanja ‘drugačijih’ filmova koji će se protiviti stereotipima i zaustaviti sadašnji status društva. Anja Kofmel se hrabro nosi sa brutalnim gubitkom rođaka u njenom anti-ratnom filmu Chris Švajcarac; razgovaramo o “tamnoj strani čovječanstva i situacijama kad je izbor između lošeg i goreg” u intervjuu « Čiji je ovo rat ? » (intervju preveden sa engleskog na srpsko-hrvatski za ovaj broj). Steven Yates donosi sjajan intervju sa Tony Zierra-om o njegovom filmu Filmworker (Filmski radnik)

Čitaćete i druge velike Camera Lucida redovnjake: Jean-Michel Frodonovi tekstovi o François Ozonovom Zahvaljujući bogu (Grace à dieu), o Srećan kao Lazzaro, u režiji Alice Rohrwacher, o filmu Ljeto, u režiji Kirilla Serebrennikova, High Life (ili narativna metafizika ») autorke Claire Denis ; tri posljednja teksta je briljantno prevela sa francuskog na srpsko-hrvatski nova članica našeg tima Zumreta Trocellier. Jonathan Rosenbaum se vraća filmu Liliane Cavani Noćni portir u lucidnoj analizi, Merima Omeragić istražuje kulturalne tabue ženskog tijela u filmu A prickly subject, u režiji Helen Plumb, Anita Stjepčević nastavlja elaboriranu studiju (u drugom i završnom dijelu) o « ideološkoj hiperesteziji u jugoslovesnkom filmu »

Rubrika FESTIVALI donosi izvještaje sa FESTa 2019, svjež pogled Alexandre Pütter o Crnim noćima Tallinna i Yaroslav Lodyginovom filmu Divlje livade (The wild fields), a Kiriakos Peftitselis piše njegove avanturističke i inspirativne izvještaje sa festivala Manaki braća, Bitola i Cluj festival komedije.

In memoriam daje počast Bernardu Bertolucciju u tekstovima Ronalda Bergana na engleskom i Jean-Michel Frodona na francuskom jeziku, Dušanu Makavejevu, Mrinalu Senu, Julie Adams, Muriel Pavlow, Claude Goretta-i, koje potpisuje Ronald Bergan, Claude Lanzmann-u u tekstu Nevene Daković.

Maja Bogojević 

I don't think there is any business in the world which is self-styled an "industry"--because it is only the producers and directors who insist on calling the film a "business" or "industry"--where people so cavalierly hire specialists at vast prices only to devote themselves to hampering the work of the specialist they've hired.

Joseph Los

My creative thought has multiple expressions: photo, cinema, installations—above all, imagination—and several ways of perceiving. I have a photographer’s perception. I write. I write my films. I mix period [history] with fantasy. And I’m free to think like that. Or about nothing at all. I am remembering as I am living.

I think when we write a script, we mustn’t know. The characters have to have autonomy. There are options, and the dreadful moral is: we are each unique, but replaceable. Society functions if each one is in his/her place.

Agnes Varda

Who is the audience? They are us.

We, film critics, tend to honour art films displaying aesthetic innovations and contributing to changing our social perceptions or raising our social awareness of (more or less) pioneering subject-matters, usually on those socially marginalised, on the fringe of the society, “the invisible or less visible ones” that become visible precisely thanks to the cinema universe. But do we, film critics and film authors (who make such films), notice “the less visible ones” at film festivals, surrounding us in the midst of red carpet glamour and glitz? The huge army of logistics people, technicians, catering and cleaning staff, guest volunteers or people in the audience, without whom festivals would not be possible, or would at least be less enjoyable? Rarely or only occasionally. Nobody notices these people, although we’ve just come out of a screening focused on a poor orphan, an exhausted cleaning lady/single mother, a youth deprived of basic human rights etc. I can’t help but notice them. Once, at a festival, I even “volunteered” to help a visibly exhausted catering woman to do the dishes. She politely declined my offer to help and gave me a smile of surprise and thankfulness. When she smiled, her face became radiant with humanity again, because someone noticed her work. I’ll never forget that smile of gratitude, not for helping her, but just for acknowledging her existence. What’s the point of making such reality-inspired films if we, the ‘specialists’, don’t notice this very reality around us?

Most film industry professionals are too busy talking about money to notice people around them, the people they (might) make films about. More urging is the ‘precious’ talk on funding, pitchings and so-called development projects. And usually, the marginal groups, both within and outside the industry are – women. Women from all countries, of various nationalities, races, professions and walks of life. These industry ‘conversations’ (I occasionally overhear but don’t participate in) resemble more a Wall street bankers’ talk than a meaningful conversation among artists. Of course, film is an industry, too. But something is alarmingly wrong if industry completely forgets art or its raison d’être. Something is terribly wrong in the film state if money and profit are the only goals and there is nobody to remind us that it shouldn’t be like that.

Fortunately, Camera Lucida talks to those artists who remind us of Sans toit ni loi people both in their film and life works. There is Agnes Varda, ‘godmother of the new wave’, as she was referred to, one of the women who signed the famous “Manifesto of the 343 Sluts” drafted by Simone de Beauvoir, which led to the ground-breaking law under Health Minister Simone Veil, legalizing abortion in 1975, or “a wave before the new wave”, as Joan Dupont describes her in this exclusive and unique interview. Varda and Dupont talk about films on social subjects, art (“my creative thought has multiple expressions”), radical feminism of the 1960’s and 1970’s (“I wrote militant, feminist words for the film’s songs. It was important to be militant with humor, because we were called mal baisées[“frustrated hags”] and râleuses [“hysterical harpies”]. My movie came at just the right moment and was a big hit. People tell me today that the movie gave them courage.”), migrants (“Today, we are in a situation with the migrants; we have a roof over our heads and we think about them, but we do nothing—just as when we made Loin du Vietnam[Far from Vietnam, 1967] and wanted to do something but couldn’t.  So, we are unhappy witnesses”.), homeless people, as portrayed in one of Dupont’s and my favourite films, Vagabond/Sans toi ni loi (“I was interested in homeless people. So I went down there with my car and I’d pick up homeless people. They were mostly men, but there were a few women. And I noticed the importance we give to cleanliness. We can deal with the poor, but they’d better be clean, and smell okay! This emphasis on cleanliness bothered me. Vagabond is a complete film on a social subject.”), about nobody listening (“When I made Daguerréotypes on rue Daguerre, years ago, I spoke to my neighbors, the shop people. Commerce has its own vocabulary, words that don’t mean much. For example, the butcher always said, “It’s because of the weather,” no matter what. One day, a woman came into the shop and said, “My husband had a heart attack,” and he said: “It’s the weather!” It’s that kind of dialogue—words that mean nothing, and nobody listens.”), on themes of women, women “who do badly, of women who falter, of triangulations and betrayals (that) are ever-present but unremarked”.

There is, also, Sonja Prosenc, a film authoress who talks to me (in an interview translated from English to Serbo-Croat for this issue) about her filmmaking which, by offering new poetic solutions revolutionises and subverts/negates the viewing pleasure of our mainstream commodity habits, about the ‘selfie-culture’ we live in and where “even we have to become a likeable content”, about making “different’ films that can counter stereotypes and stop reproducing current status of the society. Anja Kofmel deals bravely with the brutal loss of her cousin in her anti-war film Chris the Swiss and talks to me about “black side of humanity and the choice between bad and very bad” in our interview “Whose war is it?” (interview translated from English to Serbo-Croat for this issue). Steven Yates brings an illuminating interview with Tony Zierra and his Filmworker.

You will also read other great Camera Lucida regulars: Jean-Michel Frodon’s texts on François Ozon’s Grace à dieu, on Happy as Lazzaro, by Alice Rohrwacher, on Summer by Kirill Serebrennikov, on High Life “or narrative metaphysics” by Claire Denis, with the latter three texts brilliantly translated from French into Serbo-Croat by our new team member, Zumreta Trocellier. Jonathan Rosenbaum lucidly revisits Liliana Cavani’s The Night Porter, Merima Omeragić insightfully explores the cultural taboos of female body in A prickly subject, by Helen Plumb and Anita Stjepčević continues her elaborate study (second and last part) on ‘ideological hypesthesthesia in Yugoslav filmmaking’.

In our FESTIVALS section you will read reports on FEST 2019, Belgrade, Alexandra Pütter’s fresh view on Tallinn’ Black Nights and Yaroslav Lodygin's The wild fields, while Kiriakos Peftitselis brings his adventurous and inspiring reports on festivals of Manaki brothers, Bitola and Cluj comedy.

In memoriam pays tribute to Bernardo Bertolucci by Ronald Bergan and Jean-Michel Frodon, to Dušan Makavejev, Mrinal Sen, Julie Adams, Muriel Pavlow, Claude Goretta, by Ronald Bergan, and Claude Lanzmann by Nevena Daković.

Maja Bogojević