Tuesday, October 23, 2012

THE PERFECT CIRCLE (Bosnian) (1997)

“I’m dreaming, mother. Dreaming that I’m singing. You’re asking me: what are you doing, my son? What does the song in your dream say, my child? Mother, it says I once had a house. Now I have none, mother. Once I had voice and a language. Now I have no voice and no language. With the voice that I lost, in the language that I lost, I sing a song, mother, about the house that I lost.”

How can you remain untouched where a film opens with such a monologue showing us the image of a hanged middle aged man on tree in snow clad cemetery? The film is an undernoticed anti-war document from Bosnia pointing the absurdity of war through strong images, humanitarian drama and fine poetic monologues. A Bosnian drunkard poet after sending her daughter and wife away from horror of war encounters two orphan kids. There’s massacre everywhere where nobody knows when bombs or bullets from any direction end their lives. The struggle of survival draws the film towards tragic climax but before that throughout the film it raised many pertinent questions about the absurdity of war.

Some images stays with me; that injured dog with his hindlegs on wheel chair running aimlessly amid horror of ruined city, that frequently shown image of poet’s hanged self reflected the death of innocence, human sensibility of both mind and body. He performance of Mustafa Nadarevic is so natural and effective. His delusional talk with his wife and daughter and his frequent rendering monologues reflects the poet’s tormented inner soul: “If I close my eyes, I see myself hanged. What my soul couldn’t face, what my heart didn’t dare do, my body will do all by itself.”  


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