The problem I feel with any anthology film is the multiple beginnings. Once a short ends you have to start over, refocusing your priorities and if it’s directed by a different director, as it is here, you have to get in line with a different perspective. There’s a reason anthologies don’t relate to short story collections like single-story films relate to novels. That’s because, while the experience of watching the two is different the means are the same. There’s no breathing space between two shorts to let the short we have to seen to breathe, to let it assimilate again in your brain. One could argue that one story informs the other, that our perspective of the short changes due to the short preceding it but that’s only true some of the time. Other times, you end up comparing the previous entries in your brain and the subsequent shorts start with an unfair disadvantage.
That being said, The Bridges of Sarajevo is largely a triumph. It doesn’t exactly overcome the problems I mentioned above but the individual shorts themselves are well directed for the most part. I must confess to being familiar only with Jean-Luc Godard and Christi Puiu of the directors but there are good entries from directors I am less familiar with.
1) My Dear Night (Filip Todorov)
Starting off with the seminal event that would play such a huge part in Sarajevo’s history, My Dear Night concerns the night before and the shooting of Prince Franz Ferdinand. It’s not a particularly strong start and as a way of introduction it might leave you feeling the rest of the film is going to be just as bland. There’s good lensing in the night scene where Ferdinand is shot and I liked the visual of of waiters in the back just going on with their business even after the assassination. But, there’s much better things to come.
2) Our Shadows Will (Vladimir Perisic)
The focus immediately shifts to the other side with Our Shadows Will concerning the writings of Gavrilo Princip. Filmed in a non-direct style, with the narration first beginning accompanied by a black screen, Princip talks about the oppression of Yugoslav peoples under Austria-Hungary. In his call for a united Yugoslavia can unmistakably be heard the views of the modern Yugoslav nationalists, but it is filmed in such a style that shows the film is not agreeing with him just giving an insight into the mind of Princip. This is also the first indication of the more experimental shorts that are going to appear.
3) The Outpost (Leonardo Di Costanzo)
Well Costanzo clearly thinks of his film as unique because his short ends with card detailing the number of Italian victims lost in World War I. But does the film deserve it? Well, not really. It’s a pretty standard war story for the most part with an ending that does raise some questions but grappling with those questions is not within the scope here. So, both the end card and the short are a misstep.
4) Princip, Text (Angela Schanelec)
Like Perisic’s entry, this too focuses on Princip’s writing. The difference here is, while that film approached his writing through performance, this one focuses on study. Unfortunately for Schanelec, the writing chosen by Perisic is much more memorable and so in turn his film is more memorable.
5) Das Spektrum Europas (Cristi Puiu)
Das Spektrum Europas is the only one of the shorts that may make you guffaw (at least until the last one). Puiu’s trademarked sense of humour comes in handy as his segment moves away from Sarajevo and through an old couple makes comment on the various prejudices Europeans harbour about each other. Highlights include the husband saying “the American Jews are the worst of all” and a mixup between the publishing date of the book that starts the whole row between the wife and husband.
6) The Bridge of Sighs (Jean-Luc Godard)
Archival footage and still images combined with clips from his prior films, this is an archetypical Godard ‘video’. With this short starts not only the more experimental part of the anthology, but also a much better engagement with the titular city with the focus now shifting to the aftermath of The Yugoslav War and the city’s occupation. Godard waxes lyrical about culture, art, war narrating over the images showing armed officers and corpses. Again the problem of the anthology comes into play. These observations made by Godard would have made more sense if they were a experimental film of their own but here they feel smushed in.
7) Reflections (Sergei Loznitsa)
Superimposing photos of young men (and even boys) with rifles and guns over modern day happenings in Sarajevo, Reflections is a holding-of account of the youth lost during the war, not only the loss of lives but also the losing of the morality of these young men who take up arms. Shot in black-and-white, the city almost looks exotic, were it not for for the constant reminder of the faces of these soldiers looking in turn menacing, afraid, child-like and all unmistakably Balkan.
8) Zan’s Journey (Marc Recha)
Recha’s short most resembles a short story with it’s wistful narration and it’s almost nostalgic rememberance of the war. The protagonist here is from a family that was relocated in Catalonia after the war and through some engaging imagery Recha gives a feel of the people who had to face these conditions, whose survival was uncertain and whose lives were uprooted. There’s regret over the city library being destroyed and a book the father was able to save. The book is later lost just like the people after the war.
9) Album (Aida Begic)
Begic is the only one of the directors from the city and it shows. Her film is a documentary laying out the damage of the war and the occupation with crumbled buildings and places where the effect of the shelling still shows. She however concludes with a poem of hope for the city. Her film is quietly heart-breaking.
10) Sara and her Mother (Teresa Villaverde)
Here again the family is refugees from the war and once again books are part of the story. One plaque reads “Culture is a necessity, not a luxury”, tying in with Godard’s film. A bit of sameness with the previous shorts does hamper the engagement but the material is strong enough to stand on it’s own.
11) The Bridge (Vincenzo Marra)
This is the point where a little fatigue sets in. The story may be a little different (this time the couple has lost a son in the war) but the concerns are the same. Plus, Maria’s style is very conventional as opposed to the experimental shorts before. The ending somewhat redeems the film but it’s not enough to discourage our dissatisfaction.
12) Little Boy (Isild Le Besco)
An antithesis to the previous short, Besco’s film has the little boy be the one who lost his parents in the war and the boy still is in the city living with his grandmother. In just 5 minutes, Besco has made us care for the boy. She shoots the city from the boy’s point of view, covered in mist and bare. He is the son of a Muslim and a Serb, and he doesn’t identify with either of the group and thereby doesn’t discriminate, in the same way he doesn’t discriminate between cats and dogs.
13) Quiet Mujo (Ursula Meier)
If all the previous shorts starting from Godard’s were elegies about the city, Meier’s entry is unassuming and bereft of any such concerns. That is not to say, Meier has nothing to say but he starts his film with a football match between children, a topical diversion. Mujo loses the ball in the cemetery (which adjoins the field, living with consequences of war is not an option it’s mandatory) and there he meets a woman who has lost her brother and sister-in-law in the war. Both performers are excellent and the dialogue is strong with the woman (Alma Prica) having a wonderful one-liner. It’s a strong ending to the film.
The shorts are broken up by animation of a bridge over water, sometimes made of hands, sometimes of books depending upon the previous short. It doesn’t necessarily add anything to the film, but it’s not obstructive either.
The best of the shorts are by Puiu, Loznitsa, Recha, Begic, Besco and Meier. The worst are by Todorov, Costanza and Marra.
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