Mi iz Praga (1971) - full transcript
This documentary was filmed
in Prague in 1968,
a few months before Soviet intervention,
and it is Rajko Grlic's first work
for television.
Many students came
from all parts of Ex-Yugoslavia
to study film art in Prague.
They talk about their love for movies,
student life, nostalgia for home
and future plans.
Rajko Grlic
US FROM PRAGUE
Take one.
There are few reasons why I'm
studying here, but
the most important is that
I wanted to study what I love the most.
When I asked myself what is that
which I love the most,
I found out that I only love going to
the cinema, so I told myself...
I should study film.
And then I...
while searching for a film college...
decided that it is best for me
to study in Prague...
and my father also had some money
that he had earned...
from making a movie.
And also...
I wanted to travel somewhere
at the same time.
My girlfriend had just left me then.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
At the Film Faculty of the Academy
of Fine Arts in Prague,
there are eight of us who study:
Goran Markovic, 3rd year student
of film directing,
in the class of docent Borivoj Zeman.
Pega Popovic,
2nd and 4th year student
in film camera
at the faculty in Prague.
Lordan Zafranovic, 2nd year
of film directing
in the class of Professor Klos.
Rajko Grlic, 2nd year
student of film directing
in the class of Professor Klos.
Goran Paskaljevic, I'm in the 1st year
of film and TV directing
in the class of Professor Elmar Klos.
Jovanovic Radoslav, 1st year student
of film camera
in the class of Professor Jan Smok.
Srdjan Karanovic, 3rd year student
in film directing
in the class of Professor Zeman and...
Pavle Gruzincic, 1st student
in documentary film-making
are not here with us because
Srdjan Karanovic is translating
a play in the National Theatre of Prague
and...
Pavle Gruzincic is filming
a documentary outside of Prague.
Srdjan Karanovic and I
came to Prague first.
Since 1948, nobody had studied here,
because of Informbiro.
And...
when we arrived, we had 10 days before
the start of the academic year.
We passed the entrance examination,
which was pretty hard.
Then we were on our own,
my father left with his car,
he left us somewhere in the streets,
then we realized...
what's actually happening.
And...
Then we started going to lectures.
Of course we didn't understand a word,
we didn't even know
how to say "glass of water."
We were doing nothing,
we didn't understand anything.
The reason why I came here is,
first of all, practical.
At least it seemed practical when
I first decided to come to this city.
When I say "practical,"
I think that at that time...
when...
I had to choose a faculty
I had already chosen my profession.
I just had doubts how to...
achieve what I wanted to do.
I had doubts about
how to improve as a filmmaker.
And this was, at that moment,
subjectively and objectively
the only possible solution...
Not only possible - but the best.
After our arrival in Prague,
we didn't have the same problems
as Karanovic and...
Markovic because
we had them here.
They showed us everything,
so we became accustomed very fast.
And little by little...
we entered
the academy.
But through different doors
than they had.
Only...
just now...
after a whole year
we can talk about creative processes.
Until now, that atmosphere,
the new people,
Prague itself, all that absorbed us
so much
that we couldn't...
couldn't... dedicate ourselves...
to creating...
on a level...
I used to work in Split, Yugoslavia.
I arrived in Prague a month before
the academic year started.
I walked around with a big plan
and a photo camera,
and I felt like a tourist.
But after... two weeks
I realized that... I wasn't a tourist.
For the first time
I came in touch with a mentality
different from ours.
And I became a stranger...
And it lasted almost until now.
That period of adjustment.
Now, I feel in Prague
almost as I do at home.
In Yugoslavia, I couldn't find a school
where I could improve my camera work.
I heard about Prague, film school...
I came here...
Passed the entrance examination
and started studying.
In the beginning, I felt home sick.
It is the biggest illness
of all the Yugoslavs here.
We were so much absorbed
by nostalgia that...
Also because of that,
we couldn't...
immerse ourselves...
in a new life, new atmosphere,
to find
ideas and material here.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
She smiled once more
to the sound of banjos
I got drunk as I listened,
moved more and more
We stay in Yugoslavia very long,
longer than we should,
a month, month and a half,
so when we return to Prague
every day
we have a busy schedule.
It all starts in the morning
with waking up, which is very hard,
because sleeping in Prague is very nice.
Then we have breakfast in the dormitory
and then, of course, lectures.
And when there are no lectures,
we go to the TV studio, where we work
with the TV cameras
or to the film studio,
where we do different
exercises, by ourselves
and with directors too.
In the afternoon,
we return to the dormitory.
We have dinner.
Personally, I then rush
for our newspapers,
which arrive around
half past six,
from Zagreb. It's usually "Borba."
We spend our evenings
in the dormitory
or we go to a cafe
right next to the dormitory,
where we stay until 1 or 2 am.
One day, I met a girl
and fell in love more than usual.
I got married.
In the beginning, we had...
some difficulties, different views...
habits, and such...
We also argued a bit...
But we managed it in the end...
Not once have I regretted that I did it.
I met her, we went out for a month,
and then we got married.
We live in the dormitory,
not in the same room.
There are lots of students
in the dormitory.
She lives on a different floor,
different room...
We live more like lovers,
not husband and wife.
But maybe it's better like this,
more interesting.
For me, personally, the academy
means an opportunity...
to gradually learn about film,
from 16mm and 8mm
to working at studio and TV.
Because I had no work experience
before coming here...
Practically... I went to the cinema,
watched films, loved films.
If I were to do films in Yugoslavia,
as an amateur,
or if I tried to be a professional
in some way...
I think I wouldn't have a chance because
I would do it fast and without a plan.
Maybe...
I would have to work a day job,
fight for survival...
I would want to do just films...
And here...
Besides film,
I don't have any significant problems.
I spend a lot of time by myself,
and you...
All of us here, together, we have
an opportunity to focus just on film.
I felt some kind of emptiness,
lack of...
something, that I couldn't
just fill with practical work...
I read a lot but it still wasn't
what I wanted for myself...
Then I heard of FAMU, I tried,
I came here
I actually came to broaden
my knowledge...
Has someone...?
...I don't know...
I think that the greatest value of this
academy is lots of practice.
There's not much talking...
There's a lot of filming on 35mm.
I have an important reason
why I came here, to the academy,
why I'm studying here, maybe not Prague,
but why I'm studying film...
For two years, I tried to get
funding for a film in Zagreb
and I didn't succeed. I was engaged
in amateur films for four, five years.
I realized that I didn't have any chance
to start working on these films.
I had a chance like anybody
else, to work for TV,
to start as an assistant.
To start...
anything, really, that can lead
to getting a camera
in your hands for your own film.
But it's a long way, too long...
And it's a dirty situation, probably not
only in Zagreb, but everywhere.
I think I found here what I needed.
I have got here
a possibility to make
films. I worked two,
three weeks this year.
Short films...
I can do whatever I want.
There is no censorship
or conflict with the professors
concerning themes, ways of working,
I can negotiate, I can talk with Klos,
ask him what he thinks of it
but always do it on my own.
It's great when you have such freedom
when starting to work on a film.
A thing of great importance
to me is Prague.
It's one of the oldest culture centers,
and that's really something...
It has a fantastic atmosphere...
People here... the people here,
in general, are supporters of art.
There are lots of cinemas,
lots of theaters here.
There must be around 30 theaters...
- 46 theaters, official ones...
and around 10 smaller ones.
And they are sold out, let's say
a month before the show,
and Prague isn't much bigger
than Belgrade, let's say 10 percent.
Museums, galleries,
concerts are held in churches,
People have understanding...
It's fantastic... how the city
actually is affecting us,
how it gives a new meaning to our lives.
It's very meaningful...
- We get a new view on Yugoslavia.
On some Yugoslav questions,
on our intimate questions and problems
that earlier were much closer to us,
now we have some distance to them,
it's colder...
More rational.
- Rational, there is some distance.
Now we have some new thoughts,
which are refined, which are...
diverse, have quality to them.
Reasons that made me think,
as a young boy,
how it's nice to travel abroad,
how it would be nice
to travel around the world,
became later, as I matured,
a more serious
adventurism, but still adventurism.
Namely, I was - as all of us, in fact -
in some way distracted by various...
relationships in the town where I lived.
Monotony of life...
And it seemed to me that...
traveling can heal
that feeling in a man.
But, as I came here,
and lived abroad for a while...
I came to the conclusion
that all these things
that had made me want to go away...
were now forcing me to return.
And it's interesting...
that nostalgia
that exists in all of us...
is focused on some details,
on some monotonous things...
which are always very, very connected
to our ground...
to our country and...
we always think about them
and it seems to me that maybe
we see them more clearly here
and appreciate them more.
It's very important that we have
a distance from Yugoslavia here.
It's paradoxical, but we sometimes
really understand better here
what's happening in Yugoslavia
because we're far away.
We see everything
from a bird's-eye perspective.
When we're in Yugoslavia,
we are too much emotionally
connected to what's happening.
We cannot understand it rationally.
Not just that, but what Goran said.
Attitude towards people that work in
film, theater...
When I return to Zagreb
and see that attitude,
not just towards the intellectuals,
but art as a whole,
it's really hard
to even compare it to here,
to what's happening here.
Here, you have state awards
that are given to credible artists
who are important for the scene.
These men are respected
among the people.
It's absurd to compare,
but in our country, a Yugoslav
or a person from Zagreb will
first mention a football player
in a conversation with a foreigner.
When I first came here, I met
a cleaning lady, and she really was
a cleaning lady, and she talked
about Werich and about Forman
and people like that...
Who mean something to a nation.
It's wonderful how artists
are held up high.
Even in this revolution
that's happening,
they are leading everything.
When Dubcek said that intellectuals
must unite with the working class,
it wasn't by accident
that it happened here.
This country has a fine
cultural tradition.
It's good that we
get to study here
but we will hardly
re-adjust when we go back.
It's fascinating, Rajko,
how much money is spent on
culture and education.
It's best seen in our academy...
They film about 50,000 meters
of material here, which is
four to five long meter films
in Yugoslavia...
All this time,
during Stalinism and after...
the culture system has been very well
financed and managed.
So, it's obvious that this accumulation
of culture
and educated artists
brought this revolution.
We found ourselves here
right at the moment when it began,
all that's happening in Czechoslovakia.
It's a very interesting moment
and we follow it as much as we can.
It's interesting...
that for the first time...
I don't know if it will succeed,
but there is a chance...
they are trying to merge socialism
with democracy.
I should mention one article
by Prochazka,
published in Literary Papers.
That's an interesting magazine because
it produced the whole revolution.
The Writers Association is doing it
to this day.
Prochazka says in this article:
"It's strange how two
different creatures"
"like husband and wife,"
"can connect in one moment."
"It's the same
with democracy and socialism"
"It is a rare occasion,"
"but it can happen
that a man and a woman
connect and live in
a happy marriage."
"Our role, both of Czechs
and of Slovaks, is that"
"we should try that this marriage
proceeds without big conflicts"
"and neighbor's intervention."
What Rajko said...
is very...
important for us,
people who practice art.
Because...
I, for example,
came here three years ago,
and within two years, I'd completely
familiarized myself, until these events
with the system started...
that could be characterized
as something be...
between
leftovers of Stalinism
and a Kafkaesque atmosphere.
I got to know it completely,
felt it on my skin,
in the ambiance, in the behavior
of the people, et cetera.
And now, this whole process...
Which is interesting for us
because we have experienced
how it looks when a nation
has a renaissance.
In one moment, we felt how
something is happening,
how something is being born,
and suddenly that baby was born,
and it started crying...
and it raised its voice,
but it all happened very fast...
I don't know. It all happened, it seems
to me, within a few days,
and suddenly you have another climate,
another world,
people behave differently,
they talk differently,
they feel differently.
Then you have a special problem,
it's a problem of the relationship
between society, or state,
and art, culture...
In a state, culture cannot fund itself,
cannot survive alone financially.
It's impossible.
The state has to fund it. In the end...
art and culture show
how far some states have evolved.
It's not important just
to sell something.
You have some savage nations...
In the end, the best
example is that
we're the most illiterate
country in Europe.
I would just like to say that
this should not be seen as... as a...
as some biased critique.
I want to say an important thing.
This country has a richer cultural past,
incomparably richer than that of ours.
So we shouldn't look at it
in short-term concepts.
We can only say that here, on a basis
of rich cultural traditions,
today exists
an even richer cultural situation.
And that we could do much more
than we're doing now.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
How do you make a film here?
And why is production like that?
Here, you work in groups,
not all alone like we do.
And in Yugoslavia, not only do they
not help you, they even interfere.
They try by all means
to remove a young man
from his path...
In that struggle for a piece
of bread in Yugoslavia,
man is a wolf to other men.
Here, the situation is different.
Here, there are people with similar
affinities: musicians, scriptwriters,
dramatists, directors.
They form a group and prepare a film
for a year or two.
So it's obvious that in such a climate
Czechoslovakian film grows.
It's the best in the world today.
With the current climate in Yugoslavia,
we'll never have a good film.
The question now is: if we have such
a critical opinion of Yugoslavia
and the production process there,
must we...
not "must"...
will we be able to form a group...
Once we go back...
Do we have similar
affinities at all,
a similar intimate
relationship with film?
I really don't know what film is...
But...
it seems to me...
that I could feel it, in a particular
moment, feel what film is.
Intuitively feel it.
And what is film. That definition...
is what I'm searching for, actually.
This is something that will occupy my
whole life, the search...
for that mystery...
We ask ourselves here,
for three years by now...
I wondered about it myself before,
I'll ask myself my whole life,
what film is...
I can say that even now, I still...
cannot define the notion of film.
All I know is that it is...
a piece of celluloid...
which can do many things.
I relate film with music very much,
I think it is...
a music of pictures...
Film is, more than anything,
the production of a new life.
Maybe even more than that.
It's the most free game I know.
Even though you have
to know the rules
more precisely than it
looks at first glance.
Film, for me, is this picture I paint...
And I'm always behind the camera.
For me, film is very close to life.
Although, in the order of things
that I love, want and find important,
film comes second to life.
I think we'll be very connected
through the formality of having
studied together in Prague.
It's not about form, Lordan.
I think that because we live together
and have similar problems,
we form a mutual vision of reality
and the work we do.
Of course,
everyone has his own personal...
sensibility,
which will be a personal style one day.
But we have a similar view on reality,
that is for sure.
It's normal. This school
will define us in some way.
We are a very rare
group of people
that is interested
in art, namely film,
and we're Yugoslavs at the same time.
Look at the situation in production,
funds and stuff like that,
it's a closed deal. It's a rare thing...
that you have Yugoslavs
in one place,
living together,
understanding each other,
not thinking of...
- Chauvinism.
Chauvinism.
Who belongs to which nation...
Take this Slovene guy
who is not with us...
Although he doesn't
speak our language,
and we talked in Czech
in the beginning...
This splendid situation we're in
helps us make some...
This splendid situation
erases these things.
Man becomes a chauvinist
when his only problem
is if he will eat well,
and what he will do after the meal.
Out of boredom you become a chauvinist.
We will be forced to create a group
that will
find money in a different way,
not how it's done today.
We will for sure get used to a different
system of working...
that will connect us.
We don't have to search for some
cosmopolitan ideas
that will bring us together.
- We don't have to...
We can... I can make a film, as a Serb,
about... I don't know...
about the town of Ivanjica,
and in that microworld
I can show cosmos.
Of course.
I don't have to deny
my nationality to...
To... to...
To not be a chauvinist.
I don't intend to do it.
My comrades, it's easy for you
because you're not married,
but my wife is waiting...
Censored!
Go away!
This is real suffering.
Bye.
- Convey her our greetings.
We'd started talking about the group.
What should we do when we're
back in Yugoslavia?
How will we raise the funds?
- With your help.
All right...
A wonderful anecdote from
the cinema club in Split,
we could use it later...
if we don't get to make a film.
There is a...
name for a film that you don't actually
make, you just talk about it,
it's a so called
"speaking movie",
people tell the scenario
and the film is finished.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
She smiled once more
to the sound of banjos
I got drunk as I listened,
moved more and more
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
in Prague in 1968,
a few months before Soviet intervention,
and it is Rajko Grlic's first work
for television.
Many students came
from all parts of Ex-Yugoslavia
to study film art in Prague.
They talk about their love for movies,
student life, nostalgia for home
and future plans.
Rajko Grlic
US FROM PRAGUE
Take one.
There are few reasons why I'm
studying here, but
the most important is that
I wanted to study what I love the most.
When I asked myself what is that
which I love the most,
I found out that I only love going to
the cinema, so I told myself...
I should study film.
And then I...
while searching for a film college...
decided that it is best for me
to study in Prague...
and my father also had some money
that he had earned...
from making a movie.
And also...
I wanted to travel somewhere
at the same time.
My girlfriend had just left me then.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
At the Film Faculty of the Academy
of Fine Arts in Prague,
there are eight of us who study:
Goran Markovic, 3rd year student
of film directing,
in the class of docent Borivoj Zeman.
Pega Popovic,
2nd and 4th year student
in film camera
at the faculty in Prague.
Lordan Zafranovic, 2nd year
of film directing
in the class of Professor Klos.
Rajko Grlic, 2nd year
student of film directing
in the class of Professor Klos.
Goran Paskaljevic, I'm in the 1st year
of film and TV directing
in the class of Professor Elmar Klos.
Jovanovic Radoslav, 1st year student
of film camera
in the class of Professor Jan Smok.
Srdjan Karanovic, 3rd year student
in film directing
in the class of Professor Zeman and...
Pavle Gruzincic, 1st student
in documentary film-making
are not here with us because
Srdjan Karanovic is translating
a play in the National Theatre of Prague
and...
Pavle Gruzincic is filming
a documentary outside of Prague.
Srdjan Karanovic and I
came to Prague first.
Since 1948, nobody had studied here,
because of Informbiro.
And...
when we arrived, we had 10 days before
the start of the academic year.
We passed the entrance examination,
which was pretty hard.
Then we were on our own,
my father left with his car,
he left us somewhere in the streets,
then we realized...
what's actually happening.
And...
Then we started going to lectures.
Of course we didn't understand a word,
we didn't even know
how to say "glass of water."
We were doing nothing,
we didn't understand anything.
The reason why I came here is,
first of all, practical.
At least it seemed practical when
I first decided to come to this city.
When I say "practical,"
I think that at that time...
when...
I had to choose a faculty
I had already chosen my profession.
I just had doubts how to...
achieve what I wanted to do.
I had doubts about
how to improve as a filmmaker.
And this was, at that moment,
subjectively and objectively
the only possible solution...
Not only possible - but the best.
After our arrival in Prague,
we didn't have the same problems
as Karanovic and...
Markovic because
we had them here.
They showed us everything,
so we became accustomed very fast.
And little by little...
we entered
the academy.
But through different doors
than they had.
Only...
just now...
after a whole year
we can talk about creative processes.
Until now, that atmosphere,
the new people,
Prague itself, all that absorbed us
so much
that we couldn't...
couldn't... dedicate ourselves...
to creating...
on a level...
I used to work in Split, Yugoslavia.
I arrived in Prague a month before
the academic year started.
I walked around with a big plan
and a photo camera,
and I felt like a tourist.
But after... two weeks
I realized that... I wasn't a tourist.
For the first time
I came in touch with a mentality
different from ours.
And I became a stranger...
And it lasted almost until now.
That period of adjustment.
Now, I feel in Prague
almost as I do at home.
In Yugoslavia, I couldn't find a school
where I could improve my camera work.
I heard about Prague, film school...
I came here...
Passed the entrance examination
and started studying.
In the beginning, I felt home sick.
It is the biggest illness
of all the Yugoslavs here.
We were so much absorbed
by nostalgia that...
Also because of that,
we couldn't...
immerse ourselves...
in a new life, new atmosphere,
to find
ideas and material here.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
She smiled once more
to the sound of banjos
I got drunk as I listened,
moved more and more
We stay in Yugoslavia very long,
longer than we should,
a month, month and a half,
so when we return to Prague
every day
we have a busy schedule.
It all starts in the morning
with waking up, which is very hard,
because sleeping in Prague is very nice.
Then we have breakfast in the dormitory
and then, of course, lectures.
And when there are no lectures,
we go to the TV studio, where we work
with the TV cameras
or to the film studio,
where we do different
exercises, by ourselves
and with directors too.
In the afternoon,
we return to the dormitory.
We have dinner.
Personally, I then rush
for our newspapers,
which arrive around
half past six,
from Zagreb. It's usually "Borba."
We spend our evenings
in the dormitory
or we go to a cafe
right next to the dormitory,
where we stay until 1 or 2 am.
One day, I met a girl
and fell in love more than usual.
I got married.
In the beginning, we had...
some difficulties, different views...
habits, and such...
We also argued a bit...
But we managed it in the end...
Not once have I regretted that I did it.
I met her, we went out for a month,
and then we got married.
We live in the dormitory,
not in the same room.
There are lots of students
in the dormitory.
She lives on a different floor,
different room...
We live more like lovers,
not husband and wife.
But maybe it's better like this,
more interesting.
For me, personally, the academy
means an opportunity...
to gradually learn about film,
from 16mm and 8mm
to working at studio and TV.
Because I had no work experience
before coming here...
Practically... I went to the cinema,
watched films, loved films.
If I were to do films in Yugoslavia,
as an amateur,
or if I tried to be a professional
in some way...
I think I wouldn't have a chance because
I would do it fast and without a plan.
Maybe...
I would have to work a day job,
fight for survival...
I would want to do just films...
And here...
Besides film,
I don't have any significant problems.
I spend a lot of time by myself,
and you...
All of us here, together, we have
an opportunity to focus just on film.
I felt some kind of emptiness,
lack of...
something, that I couldn't
just fill with practical work...
I read a lot but it still wasn't
what I wanted for myself...
Then I heard of FAMU, I tried,
I came here
I actually came to broaden
my knowledge...
Has someone...?
...I don't know...
I think that the greatest value of this
academy is lots of practice.
There's not much talking...
There's a lot of filming on 35mm.
I have an important reason
why I came here, to the academy,
why I'm studying here, maybe not Prague,
but why I'm studying film...
For two years, I tried to get
funding for a film in Zagreb
and I didn't succeed. I was engaged
in amateur films for four, five years.
I realized that I didn't have any chance
to start working on these films.
I had a chance like anybody
else, to work for TV,
to start as an assistant.
To start...
anything, really, that can lead
to getting a camera
in your hands for your own film.
But it's a long way, too long...
And it's a dirty situation, probably not
only in Zagreb, but everywhere.
I think I found here what I needed.
I have got here
a possibility to make
films. I worked two,
three weeks this year.
Short films...
I can do whatever I want.
There is no censorship
or conflict with the professors
concerning themes, ways of working,
I can negotiate, I can talk with Klos,
ask him what he thinks of it
but always do it on my own.
It's great when you have such freedom
when starting to work on a film.
A thing of great importance
to me is Prague.
It's one of the oldest culture centers,
and that's really something...
It has a fantastic atmosphere...
People here... the people here,
in general, are supporters of art.
There are lots of cinemas,
lots of theaters here.
There must be around 30 theaters...
- 46 theaters, official ones...
and around 10 smaller ones.
And they are sold out, let's say
a month before the show,
and Prague isn't much bigger
than Belgrade, let's say 10 percent.
Museums, galleries,
concerts are held in churches,
People have understanding...
It's fantastic... how the city
actually is affecting us,
how it gives a new meaning to our lives.
It's very meaningful...
- We get a new view on Yugoslavia.
On some Yugoslav questions,
on our intimate questions and problems
that earlier were much closer to us,
now we have some distance to them,
it's colder...
More rational.
- Rational, there is some distance.
Now we have some new thoughts,
which are refined, which are...
diverse, have quality to them.
Reasons that made me think,
as a young boy,
how it's nice to travel abroad,
how it would be nice
to travel around the world,
became later, as I matured,
a more serious
adventurism, but still adventurism.
Namely, I was - as all of us, in fact -
in some way distracted by various...
relationships in the town where I lived.
Monotony of life...
And it seemed to me that...
traveling can heal
that feeling in a man.
But, as I came here,
and lived abroad for a while...
I came to the conclusion
that all these things
that had made me want to go away...
were now forcing me to return.
And it's interesting...
that nostalgia
that exists in all of us...
is focused on some details,
on some monotonous things...
which are always very, very connected
to our ground...
to our country and...
we always think about them
and it seems to me that maybe
we see them more clearly here
and appreciate them more.
It's very important that we have
a distance from Yugoslavia here.
It's paradoxical, but we sometimes
really understand better here
what's happening in Yugoslavia
because we're far away.
We see everything
from a bird's-eye perspective.
When we're in Yugoslavia,
we are too much emotionally
connected to what's happening.
We cannot understand it rationally.
Not just that, but what Goran said.
Attitude towards people that work in
film, theater...
When I return to Zagreb
and see that attitude,
not just towards the intellectuals,
but art as a whole,
it's really hard
to even compare it to here,
to what's happening here.
Here, you have state awards
that are given to credible artists
who are important for the scene.
These men are respected
among the people.
It's absurd to compare,
but in our country, a Yugoslav
or a person from Zagreb will
first mention a football player
in a conversation with a foreigner.
When I first came here, I met
a cleaning lady, and she really was
a cleaning lady, and she talked
about Werich and about Forman
and people like that...
Who mean something to a nation.
It's wonderful how artists
are held up high.
Even in this revolution
that's happening,
they are leading everything.
When Dubcek said that intellectuals
must unite with the working class,
it wasn't by accident
that it happened here.
This country has a fine
cultural tradition.
It's good that we
get to study here
but we will hardly
re-adjust when we go back.
It's fascinating, Rajko,
how much money is spent on
culture and education.
It's best seen in our academy...
They film about 50,000 meters
of material here, which is
four to five long meter films
in Yugoslavia...
All this time,
during Stalinism and after...
the culture system has been very well
financed and managed.
So, it's obvious that this accumulation
of culture
and educated artists
brought this revolution.
We found ourselves here
right at the moment when it began,
all that's happening in Czechoslovakia.
It's a very interesting moment
and we follow it as much as we can.
It's interesting...
that for the first time...
I don't know if it will succeed,
but there is a chance...
they are trying to merge socialism
with democracy.
I should mention one article
by Prochazka,
published in Literary Papers.
That's an interesting magazine because
it produced the whole revolution.
The Writers Association is doing it
to this day.
Prochazka says in this article:
"It's strange how two
different creatures"
"like husband and wife,"
"can connect in one moment."
"It's the same
with democracy and socialism"
"It is a rare occasion,"
"but it can happen
that a man and a woman
connect and live in
a happy marriage."
"Our role, both of Czechs
and of Slovaks, is that"
"we should try that this marriage
proceeds without big conflicts"
"and neighbor's intervention."
What Rajko said...
is very...
important for us,
people who practice art.
Because...
I, for example,
came here three years ago,
and within two years, I'd completely
familiarized myself, until these events
with the system started...
that could be characterized
as something be...
between
leftovers of Stalinism
and a Kafkaesque atmosphere.
I got to know it completely,
felt it on my skin,
in the ambiance, in the behavior
of the people, et cetera.
And now, this whole process...
Which is interesting for us
because we have experienced
how it looks when a nation
has a renaissance.
In one moment, we felt how
something is happening,
how something is being born,
and suddenly that baby was born,
and it started crying...
and it raised its voice,
but it all happened very fast...
I don't know. It all happened, it seems
to me, within a few days,
and suddenly you have another climate,
another world,
people behave differently,
they talk differently,
they feel differently.
Then you have a special problem,
it's a problem of the relationship
between society, or state,
and art, culture...
In a state, culture cannot fund itself,
cannot survive alone financially.
It's impossible.
The state has to fund it. In the end...
art and culture show
how far some states have evolved.
It's not important just
to sell something.
You have some savage nations...
In the end, the best
example is that
we're the most illiterate
country in Europe.
I would just like to say that
this should not be seen as... as a...
as some biased critique.
I want to say an important thing.
This country has a richer cultural past,
incomparably richer than that of ours.
So we shouldn't look at it
in short-term concepts.
We can only say that here, on a basis
of rich cultural traditions,
today exists
an even richer cultural situation.
And that we could do much more
than we're doing now.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
How do you make a film here?
And why is production like that?
Here, you work in groups,
not all alone like we do.
And in Yugoslavia, not only do they
not help you, they even interfere.
They try by all means
to remove a young man
from his path...
In that struggle for a piece
of bread in Yugoslavia,
man is a wolf to other men.
Here, the situation is different.
Here, there are people with similar
affinities: musicians, scriptwriters,
dramatists, directors.
They form a group and prepare a film
for a year or two.
So it's obvious that in such a climate
Czechoslovakian film grows.
It's the best in the world today.
With the current climate in Yugoslavia,
we'll never have a good film.
The question now is: if we have such
a critical opinion of Yugoslavia
and the production process there,
must we...
not "must"...
will we be able to form a group...
Once we go back...
Do we have similar
affinities at all,
a similar intimate
relationship with film?
I really don't know what film is...
But...
it seems to me...
that I could feel it, in a particular
moment, feel what film is.
Intuitively feel it.
And what is film. That definition...
is what I'm searching for, actually.
This is something that will occupy my
whole life, the search...
for that mystery...
We ask ourselves here,
for three years by now...
I wondered about it myself before,
I'll ask myself my whole life,
what film is...
I can say that even now, I still...
cannot define the notion of film.
All I know is that it is...
a piece of celluloid...
which can do many things.
I relate film with music very much,
I think it is...
a music of pictures...
Film is, more than anything,
the production of a new life.
Maybe even more than that.
It's the most free game I know.
Even though you have
to know the rules
more precisely than it
looks at first glance.
Film, for me, is this picture I paint...
And I'm always behind the camera.
For me, film is very close to life.
Although, in the order of things
that I love, want and find important,
film comes second to life.
I think we'll be very connected
through the formality of having
studied together in Prague.
It's not about form, Lordan.
I think that because we live together
and have similar problems,
we form a mutual vision of reality
and the work we do.
Of course,
everyone has his own personal...
sensibility,
which will be a personal style one day.
But we have a similar view on reality,
that is for sure.
It's normal. This school
will define us in some way.
We are a very rare
group of people
that is interested
in art, namely film,
and we're Yugoslavs at the same time.
Look at the situation in production,
funds and stuff like that,
it's a closed deal. It's a rare thing...
that you have Yugoslavs
in one place,
living together,
understanding each other,
not thinking of...
- Chauvinism.
Chauvinism.
Who belongs to which nation...
Take this Slovene guy
who is not with us...
Although he doesn't
speak our language,
and we talked in Czech
in the beginning...
This splendid situation we're in
helps us make some...
This splendid situation
erases these things.
Man becomes a chauvinist
when his only problem
is if he will eat well,
and what he will do after the meal.
Out of boredom you become a chauvinist.
We will be forced to create a group
that will
find money in a different way,
not how it's done today.
We will for sure get used to a different
system of working...
that will connect us.
We don't have to search for some
cosmopolitan ideas
that will bring us together.
- We don't have to...
We can... I can make a film, as a Serb,
about... I don't know...
about the town of Ivanjica,
and in that microworld
I can show cosmos.
Of course.
I don't have to deny
my nationality to...
To... to...
To not be a chauvinist.
I don't intend to do it.
My comrades, it's easy for you
because you're not married,
but my wife is waiting...
Censored!
Go away!
This is real suffering.
Bye.
- Convey her our greetings.
We'd started talking about the group.
What should we do when we're
back in Yugoslavia?
How will we raise the funds?
- With your help.
All right...
A wonderful anecdote from
the cinema club in Split,
we could use it later...
if we don't get to make a film.
There is a...
name for a film that you don't actually
make, you just talk about it,
it's a so called
"speaking movie",
people tell the scenario
and the film is finished.
She had rings on her fingers,
bracelets on her arm
And she sang in a voice
that soon wove its charm
Bewitched was I
by her pale opal eyes
And her pale oval face
seemed to hypnotize
The femme fatale who was fatal for me,
the femme fatale who was fatal for me
We met, we knew,
we lost each other from view
We met, we restarted,
then once again parted
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago
She smiled once more
to the sound of banjos
I got drunk as I listened,
moved more and more
Each blown their way
by the whirlwind of life
I saw her again one evening,
now ages ago