A girl and a boy spend together last days of their summer break, while the date is approaching when the girl will have to leave the country. A young woman and a young man unexpectedly meet and enter a passionate love affair. While she explores the city she had left as a child, he has a feeling that they’ve met before. A woman and a man separate after 20 years of marriage, but the relationship they‘ve built doesn’t allow them to move on.
It’s like almost all is lost. Yet still they are here – abandoned bungalows, an artificial lake, dirty plastic bottles, lost donkeys and stray dogs, draining pipes running over fields of salt, deserted factories, statues of revolutionaries, concrete playgrounds covered with weeds, rotten fruit, folded T-shirts, pop songs, decades of forgetting, a single room with a blue tent inside. And it felt like a kiss.
The film director searches for Gorčin, the protagonist of his film, with the help of his friend Dragan. Their journey takes them to Gorčin’s ancestral village, where they get lost in isolated hamlets, transforming the quest into an allegorical journey into the unknown.
Jovana works behind the counter at a bakery in the small town where she lives with her father. Her somewhat shy peer Marko is supposed to follow in his own father’s footsteps and become a truck driver. But the events of one night change both their lives… Serbian director Stefan Malešević debuts with a formally distinctive triptych whose loose narrative structure challenges the viewer to actively participate in putting together the pieces of the mosaic.
Artist Bojana Radulović visits her childhood home in Montenegro for the first time in 17 years. The traditional, low-set building is dilapidated, and the garden neglected. Inside, the view is obscured by the plastic sheets wrapped like semi-transparent veils around the furniture. From the house, Radulović looks in all four directions of her mental compass. To the east lies Bosnia, still licking its wounds from the Balkan war. The west represents NATO. To the north lies a new consumerist society and to the south, all the memories of former Yugoslavia. In a poetic cadence, Radulović uses images and words to explore what it means to be rootless despite having a home. She's caught between a past marked by war and a future that holds little promise of prosperity. The house that was once her safe haven is now at the mercy of international developments and political changes.
