The (Un)Seen Woman
Bojana Šolaja
Have You Seen This Woman? is a film that will make you question what you saw, not just whether and which woman you saw. This debut by Dušan Zorić and Matija Gluščević has garnered global interest. Editor Olga Košarić won the Authors under 40 Award at the 79th Venice Film Festival, where the film had its premiere. This was followed by the Critics Award at the 24th Black Movie International Independent Film Festival in Geneva and the Best Director Award at the 15th International Film Festival in Bangkok. Excellent reception by local audiences is evidenced by the Grand Prix Award "Aleksandar Saša Petrović" at the 28th Auteur Film Festival in Belgrade. Although it resists genre moulding, this feature film could be called an experimental existential drama about the search for identity – both female and film identity.
The filmmaker duo tells the story of Draginja (Ksenija Marinković) who appears to be a typical fifty-year-old woman from the neighbourhood. Through three hilarious episodes the heroine is dislocated from the traditional position of the other sex – stuck in working class interiors, in the daily struggle with dust and dirty dishes, her abandonment almost concealed by the almost divine omnipresence of the character and voice of the national television presenter. The heroine questions herself as a potential – to experience the psychedelia of nightlife, to satisfy petit bourgeois marriage ideals, or to return to a playful and rebellious adolescence as naked as she came to this world. The jumps from one unresolved sequence to another and Draginja's lack of belonging to the situations she dives into conjure up a mental state typical of an existential crisis – when you want something radically different, but the multitude of roles already taken prevents you from overcoming the status quo. The heroine's agony exposes the tragedy of the women of her generation – stuck in the conflict between the inherited ideal of the housewife and the new programme of an independent woman who knows what she wants and needs no one to make it happen.
Formal and technical components meaningfully connect the film’s disconnected narratives. The choice of suburbs as the dominant space in which the plot takes place and the scenes of buildings under construction serve to underscore the incomplete identity and social marginalisation of the main character. The same details recur from one narrative unit to the next, acquiring a different function each time. Thus, in one place the function of a woman's breasts is breastfeeding, while in another they are an object of desire. The striking presence of the screen emphasizes the general mediation of all relationships, prioritising displayed satisfaction over the real, sensational over the ordinary. In the same frame, Draginja's physical presence remains unnoticed while the video announcement of her disappearance in the RTS black chronicles immediately attracts attention. A humorous selection of outdated local pop music hits that reach underground environments contributes to the impression of the immaturity of Draginja's original habitus and projected desires. The nightmarish atmosphere is enhanced by the use of special effects that make the protagonist physically invisible or amorphous.
The stylistic extravagance of Have You Seen This Woman? does not strike us as mere young directors' desire to show off everything they know about the seventh art in one piece, but rather as an expression of the desire to make a 'film about film' of sorts. This film by Zorić and Gluščević can hardly avoid being taken as a commentary on the intrusive and non-innovative yet expensive self-colonisation of the domestic cinema, with its attractive stars and invisible style, rudely conspicuous technical investments patronizing theeye of the average viewer. It was necessary to step out of such understanding of film to make Draginja come alive on screen – an epilogue to the courageous five-year youthful rethinking of one's own filmmaking identity, a critique of stuck-up formalism and the search for the potential to keep film what art originally was – the space for play and freedom.