Featuring a spectacular
acting performance by Val Maloku in
the role of the 10-year-old Nori, Babai (Father) is the remarkable feature fiction debut of the
extremely talented Kosovan director Visar Morina. Set in
mid-‘90s Kosovo and Germany, Babai is a film about the difficult
relationship between a father and a son, the violence prevailing at the time in
Kosovo in every aspect of life and a (failed) attempt to integrate into a new
society abroad. Visar Morina’s film recently had its Greek premiere at the Balkan Survey section of the 56th Thessaloniki International
Film Festival. A few days before its
Athenian premiere at the 28th Panorama of European Cinema
(26/11-2/12), I had an enlightening discussion with the director, who is
already working on the script of his new film, that will be shot entirely in Germany.
Your protagonist, the little
Nori (Val Maloku), seems to be far more mature and grown-up than the actual
grown-ups in the film. Why did you decide to portray him in this light?
This is a difficult question! I left Kosovo when I was
15. I don’t know how much you know about the ‘90s in Kosovo or former
Yugoslavia, but, if you looked at it from the outside, it was a very
interesting time. If you looked from inside, it’s absurd how normal it was.
Fear was part of everyday life and you had no clue as to what would happen- yet
you knew that it was going to be bad. As a kid, you thought that this is how
the world was. Maybe this is one of the reasons why I chose a kid as the person
who would tell about that time. The main subject of my film, however, is the constantly
changing boy’s view of his father- trust, in a way. I was trying to think of
the father as a system of values and as part of the identity of the boy, which
I considered loving all the way and very idealistic.
When is Babai placed time-wise? Early to mid-‘90s?
I was always thinking of 1995, during the period when
the Bosnian war was going on and the situation in Kosovo was settled, in a way,
and the people got used to it. At the time, it was normal having police on the
street making fun of you, or having policemen at your home doing whatever the
fuck they wanted and feeling afraid like hell. In the ‘90s, we also experienced
huge problems with electricity- you were doing something and, all of a sudden,
there was no electricity. As soon as it returned, we forgot about what had
happened.
So, a great deal of your
personal background, your personal experiences, are reflected in the film.
I wouldn’t be able to make it, if I didn’t have a very
strong connection to it. Of course it’s personal, but not in the sense that
it’s my story. For me, it’s very
important that I believe what I’m seeing and writing.
You describe a very patriarchal
society. Has it changed over time?
Many things are changing in Kosovo now, but I have to
admit that I haven’t been living there for more than 20 years.
There is an important, I feel,
scene in your film: the gay sex one, shot, discreetly, in the dark. Is being
gay a taboo issue in Kosovo?
As in all ex-communist countries, though, by law, you
are allowed to be married to a person of the same sex. However, gays usually
have a double life. When I was 17 in Germany, I heard that a gay person was
called “schwul”. So, I asked my brother at home: “How do you say “gay” in
Albanian?” And he responded “péder”. I wondered how could I have not heard this word for 15 years,
although I knew that there were gay people in Kosovo? When it comes to
script-writing, it’s very important to me not to judge people, not be moral in
a “cheap” and cheesy way
What I also like about your
film is its open and realistic ending.
The funny thing is that, when we had the festival
premiere in Albania, a guy commented that the film is sometimes like propaganda,
telling refuges not be refugees.
It definitely doesn’t portray Germany
as the paradise on earth awaiting immigrants and refugees.
The refugee issue has become very big now, but that
was not my subject. Instead of Germany, the characters in my film could have
immigrated to Greece or Switzerland. But there is something similar in Germany
and Kosovo: in both cases someone else decides about your life.
Anyway, I’m very happy that you appreciate the ending,
because I just felt during the editing process that it was the right way to end
the film- and also because you have a child making all this journey and ending
up in this nightmare, from which, when he wakes up, the only thing he can do is
scream. Moreover, when I was young, I read a play by Brecht, The good man of Szechuan, and I was very
impressed. In the end, the main character speaks to the audience and choosing
this ending to my film gave me a similar feeling. There was nothing else to
tell. The father and the son will be trying and failing, but it was not
important anymore and I liked the last line very much: “we have to go”. Many were confused, others loved it, some hated it,
though.
Having yourself emigrated at a
young age, I assume with your family, how has it been for you adapting to a new
society with, perhaps, different mentality and new rules?
It’s true that I have immigrated to Germany, but I
received over 1 million Euros to make this film from the State. I am one of the
lucky ones. This experience had a huge impact on me, for sure. It changed me
from the scratch. It was definitely a fucked-up time, as it is for everybody!
When I first heard German people talking, I thought they had no clue what they
were talking about, the language sounded to me like Chinese. Like putting my
head in a washing machine, while I was trying to understand what those sounds
meant.
Of all the characters in your
film, which is the one that you feel closer to?
Actually I don’t know! I understand or have sympathy
for each of them- there are scenes when I feel closer to one character, or the
other.
Your film does well, so far,
in festivals- either being awarded or, generally, appreciated. I guess this is
a reward for you, considering the fact that it is your feature fiction debut.
In its world premiere in Munich we won 3 out of 4
prizes. And then in Karlovy Vary, we were also awarded. There has hardly been a
day without a screening of the film.
Any ideas for your next film?
I was writing the script before our conversation! I
don’t know to what extent it’s visible in Babai,
but it was quite a hell organizing everything and I’m looking forward to
focusing on 2 characters in just 3 or 4 locations- not more. My new film will
be about a 45-year-old father of 3 kids working in a company, feeling that his
colleagues are not treating him well and somehow experiencing a crisis. It will
have nothing to do with Kosovo.
I wish you all the best with Babai and your new film, whenever it is
shot and completed!
After having its Greek
premiere at the Balkan Survey section of the 56th Thessaloniki International Film Festival earlier
this November, Visar Morina’s Babai
(Father)
will be screened at the Competition
section of the 28th Panorama
of European Cinema, taking place between the 26th of November
and the 2nd of December in Athens.
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