QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM TALLINN
The opening is explosive. Literally. A string of explosions goes off in a mine, then the next image is an older man playing a musical instrument. Director David Jovanović creates a captivating image, by juxtaposing the destructive and the creative man.
It’s deliberate because Sun Never Again is about the threat of displacement through man’s dominance over the Earth. The film revolves around Dule (Rastko Racić) a boy who doesn’t realise that his home is at threat from the mine in the next town. One day, the home he has known will no longer be there, but he’s too young to understand. His father Vid (Dušan Jović), however, is troubled by the looming reality. His refusal to accept offers for his property, which his wife would be inclined to accept creates tension between the couple. Digging in his heels, even as his son’s health is affected by the pollution, Vid comes up with a new project – a greenhouse in their garden. Dule enthusiastically helps his father, but any hope for the family is shrinking as their inevitable displacement looms.
Sun Never Again is a visually striking film – a labour of love for all involved. Cinema may be a narrative based art form, but Jovanović combines narrative with a strong aesthetic to craft a film that can call itself art. He successfully achieves this and brings visual poetry to the story of a family’s plight. There are moments to freeze the film and look upon Jovanović and his cinematographer’s captivating work. Some of the images are mini narratives in themselves but it’s the command of the visual language that’s so striking. Sun Never Again liberates the image in a way that’s rare in cinema, empowering it to communicate with the audience more freely. Some of these images frame the human being as sublime, but also their frailty and their destiny to suffer. We see the tussle between man and nature or the conscious pride of man that’s often projected onto nature to represent a conflict that’s one-sided.
Jovanović and his co-writer Dorde Kosić, compliment the strength of the aesthetic with the narrative. The central themes of displacement will universally resonate. Sun Never Again even connects with the traditions of the Western genre – the defence of the homestead, and also the moral struggle which Vid identifies in Biblical proportions. Jovanović and Kosić’s story is also centred around power and the futility, or at least the struggle against it.
Sun Never Again is a deeply political film. Currently in Serbia, there are protests against the opening of a new lithium mine, and Jovanović and Kosić’s film will be seen to weigh in on the political discourse. These politics can spread universally in a time when the subject of free speech and right to protest is frequently suppressed.
Jovanović’s debut feature is a layered film that embraces the spectrum of the cinematic language and its potential messaging. At its heart, it’s a thoughtful and reflective film that appeals to our common humanity. What’s most impressive is how Jovanović doesn’t overwhelm his audience with his strong vision for the film. Instead, he’s able to create space for the audience to enter the film and from their own point of view let it affect them.
Sun Never Again premiered in the First Feature Competition of the 28th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.