Balkans: Before the Rain

Before the Rain suggests the idea that conflict between Macedonia and Albania is not yet war, but a culture of murder that might soon escalate into war.  Further, these conflicts offer little hope of resolution or a restoration of peace—only a potential for continued violence. Painting with a bigger brush, a viewer walks away with the idea that conflict is a direct consequence of our own constructs (Religion, nationality, race) , and for as long as we label ourselves “us” then there will always be a “them.” Thus, peace is an impossible end.

Before the Rain illustrates regional  conflicts of national, ethnic , and religious hatred: Albanian Muslims versus Macedonian Christians. The opposing forces are people who are intertwined, groups that meander around each other like intercalated roiling rivers. Because of this, the conflict  does not resemble a traditional gathering of battle forces, but rather ongoing, festering conflicts embedded in long-standing hatreds that erupt and spike, hatreds without any sort of rationale or moral purpose.

Aleks

Before  the Rain focuses on the rising tensions and animosities between two neighboring villages that are within walking distance from one another; these people actually know each other. Unfortunately these hostilities culminate into a father killing a daughter, a cousin gunning down a cousin, neighbor slaying neighbor. Thus, the escalating conflicts are personal, individual choices. And when killing becomes a personal choice, it is murder.

What can we say about the Macedonia presented in the film? Can we really foresee these groups going to war ? We don’t know, but I think Manchevski's film is a clarion call warning. The characters appear to be gradually succumbing to and investing in the religious and ethnic anxieties, resigned to a forthcoming acceleration to war; hence the title Before the Rain. This is especially apparent during the scene when Macedonian Aleks pays a call to old friends, Muslim Albanians, and his old sweetheart barely talks to him. Another member of her family expresses a desire to slit his throat.

Monastary

Old traditions are seen through funeral rites. Also, the old women still wear head coverings. But new traditions are represented by guns, modern clothing, and rap music. It’s a strange mix but I think it is delicately managed by the director.

I disagree with John Simon’s  article that pidgin-holed the film as “Artsy-Fartsy.” First of all, all film is artifice. Period. Get over it. Mr. Manchevski did not intend to film a documentary. The cinematography is lovely, the music exotic, and the acting is convincing. I think the gunning down of the cat symbolizes that violence can happen to even the most innocuous bystander—a cat.

Mr. Manchevski’s interview with the Village Voice seemed sincere to me. Clearly his film's intent was to issue a warning, or perhaps show how isolated pockets of animosity can grow into full-scale war and destruction. He felt the rising tensions first-hand. How can anyone accuse him of being insincere?

Overall, I enjoyed the film and did not feel an off-kilter queasiness from its Tarantino-like non sequential vignettes. In fact, I liked the suspense of it, a tension goaded by how’s this all going to come together?

Russia: Prisoner of the Mountians

Prisoner of the Mountains is a film about conflicting forces: old vs. young, brutality vs. kindness, and love vs. hate; all universal themes and forces.



Vanya

The primary personalities in the film are an older army vet (Sasha) and a young naïve (Vanya) “boot.” Though Sasha is more experienced with the realities of war, it is actually Vanya who survives the ordeal. In fact, I think it is Vanya’s idealism and inexperience that saves him. He tries to save Kasan from falling over the cliff—but the experienced and wily Sasha eventully pushes him off. He does not kill the armed shepherd for his gun—a hardened Sasha does. When freed by Dina from his shackles and prison, Vanya does not flee. It is by his own mercies that his life is eventually spared.

Dina

We see evidence of brutality all through the film: men held as prisoners with livestock, escaped prisoners shot, not to mention the opening scene: a Chechnyan ambush that culminates in the death of an entire Russian platoon, save Vanya and Sasha. But we also see the kindness through Dina, who speaks to the prisoners with softness and tenderness. Vanya makes a gift for Dina and repairs a villager’s timepiece.

Causacus Mountains

Most of all we see love and hate. Dina, Abdul’s daughter, has obviously fallen in love with Vanya. Yet, she knows he must die because he is the enemy. She is resigned to the longstanding hatred for  Russians and Vayna’s inevitable execution yet she loves Vanya anyway—despite his nationality and fate. He loves her, too, despite the fact that it is Dina’s father who holds him prisoner. Vanya offers to marry Dina.  In the end, she enables his escape, which is a betrayal of both her people and her father.  Sadly, as Vanya makes his escape through the Caucasus Mountains, he sees his own army fly in to strafe his heretofore captors. Vanya is appalled and sickened to realize that his captors, men and women he has lived with and grown to love, will be annihilated by his own race.

Abdul

Overall, I loved the movie. I’m glad Abdul didn’t kill Vanya. Though Abdul probably orchestrated the ambush, and later held Vanya and Sasha prisoner, we still sympathize with him. Abdul’s son is being held in a Russian prison. Abdul’s actions are cruel and desperate and  yet almost…noble? Who can blame Abdul? And despite Abdul’s cold and compassionless demeanor, we hope for his son’s return. We fear and empathize with Abdul.