A Serbian Film

(2010)

By Jason Marsiglia

Out of 4

A Serbian Film has brave, unflinching and dynamite performances by its cast – particularly, its lead, Srdjan Todorovic. It’s expertly directed, with a foreboding, almost nauseating, brown tint and bathed in blackness and shadows during its seedier moments. It’s special effects are quite effective – bloody, gruesome, uncompromising.

I can respect all of that about A Serbian Film, but don’t ask me to call any of this entertaining, or easy to watch. Frankly, if you’re the slightest bit unsure as to whether to proceed with the movie after having read what you’ve read about it, or heard what you’ve heard about it, then I’d strongly advise going with your gut and looking for something else to watch.

For those of you who cannot be dissuaded, let this review serve as a primer, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

A Serbian Film focuses on Milos, a retired porn star who has quit the biz and settled down with a beautiful wife and his very young son. He’s content with his retirement, disenchanted with the “jollies” his former profession entailed, but he misses the money it paid out – especially now, when things are so tight. As if by some twisted design of fate, an old co-worker tells Milos of a new porn production starting in a few days. He’s uninterested, until she discloses that the pay will be substantial enough that it should take care of even his son’s life-long finances. And the porn in question is supposedly something more sophisticated than the typical shoot. The director is looking to make something “art house” with a meaning, a purpose, and he respects Milos work to such a degree that he’s willing to pay the astronomical amount to get him (and his below-the-belt “star”) involved.

Here’s the catch – the script is confidential, and in order to ensure a natural performance, Milos will not be privy to anything that happens, keeping his reactions genuine. His job is simply to show up, do as he’s told, and collect his paycheck when the shoot is over.

From here, the film goes dark – inkwell dark.

Milos is asked to perform sexual acts that will entail him beating his female co-stars viciously, and working around some clearly underage extras. He’s repulsed by the production and quits. The director becomes frustrated and simply tells Milos that he’s missing the “big picture” here. This porno is supposed to be a “real life” allegory for their corrupt Serbian government – how they start to figuratively “rape” you from the second you’re born. To further convince Milos, the director shows him a horrifying clip from the film, in which the very literal act is performed.

Yes, folks – this film goes there.

It’s at this point that most people will decide to shut the film off, having justifiably decided that movies that are willing to push this kind of boundary just aren’t worth it. And good for you – because it doesn’t get any better, I can promise you that.

Milos is disgusted beyond all reason (we can thank God for his rationality and principals in this film, where no one else seems to have any), and runs horrified from the insane director’s set. At this point, Milos awakens three days later, beaten and bloody, with no recollection of the previous day’s events. He returns to the set to find everyone dead and a series of tapes left behind from when the cameras were still rolling. To uncover the mystery of the time period he missed and find his family (who have gone missing, which should tell you plenty), Milos must watch the horrifying series of tapes, and in essence, watch his life crumble into despair with each passing reel. The things that we (and Milos) witness are some truly shocking and nauseating acts of violence and sexual depravity, orchestrated by director Srdjan Spasojevic in a manner that ultimately pummels you viciously with one disgusting atrocity after another.

In its own way, the skillful direction and brilliant performance by Srdjan Todorovic transcend the material. Todorovic seems like a real guy – porn was just a job to him, something lifeless and empty. He plays the part detached at first, but his love for his family is very real, and when their own lives become entangled in this sick web, his utter anguish is powerful, visceral stuff and in lesser hands, probably wouldn’t have been as effective. This man has Oscar-chop talent, and it’s frustrating to know that this film will likely pigeonhole him in ways that can ruin an otherwise promising career. Maybe it won’t, who knows? But his performance is the film’s true saving grace and the reason for my star rating being as comparatively high as it is, to what my true feelings for the film really are.

I have to admit, I kind of admire the performances, the production value, the linear direction and its brutal special effects. The rest, which is merely the story and shock value, I’m afraid is less impressive. It may have all the earmarks of a professional production, but make no mistake, I don’t particularly like films designed for the sole purpose of trying to make me flinch – which to me, is the only reason A Serbian Film exists. Well, I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cringe, I didn’t look away in disgust – though I whole-heartedly understand that many will do just that. But by film’s end, the ugly, ultra violent and over-sexed thriller that I had settled into ultimately failed to impress me overall, and you can do with that what you will. I’m not implying that I sat through what’s been called one of the most depraved and disgusting horror films ever made, “and all I got was this lousy T-shirt”. No, the film was meant to repel and anger you, and I was certainly repelled and angered – I guess it succeeded that much.

But as each fit of lurid and disgusting brutality crossed the screen – and likewise, crossed several lines – I found myself seeing all of this become ludicrous. Sure, just about everything in the film is beyond the pale, testing the limits of decency and tolerance. But after a while, it all becomes increasingly silly – culminating in a finale you should probably see coming if you look at the set-up, and an act of violence involving an eye socket that will either have you vomiting into your popcorn, or laughing at its audacity. It’s one of those movies that starts off trying to make a point, shocking you into paying attention, and then going way beyond knowing when to quit. A good portion of viewers will be sickened wall-to-wall, understandably. But those of us with an iron gut will suddenly see the exact moments where a filmmaker’s original intentions spin wildly out of control, and cheap shock value becomes the end result of mis-guided focus.

For instance, Spasojevic has defended the film – much like the insane porn director within the film – as an allegory for life in Serbia. Bullshit. Sorry, I’m not buying it. Don’t get me wrong, Serbia is a country rife with its share of atrocities and chaos. But the whole “my film’s ridiculously offensive acts of rape and violence is supposed to reflect my view on corrupt government” angle is the oldest cop-out in the Horror Filmmaker’s Handbook. It’s the equivalent of  “my dog ate my homework”, and is used liberally by shock filmmakers when their movie gets pummelled by critics for its content. I guarantee that if the amount of notoriety and federal investigation into whether the film breaks any laws of decency in cinema weren’t reported, the film wouldn’t have any more buzz than Hostel or Wolf Creek. People will talk, sure – word of mouth is a powerful thing. But A Serbian Film is hardly the “end-all-be-all” of horror, or torture cinema.

There are shocking and revolting films out there, particularly by Argentinean director Gaspar Noe, like his Irreversible and I Stand Alone, that are unflinching and brutal examples of damaged people, and horrifying acts of violence that will resonate with an unprepared viewer far longer than this will. Another good example is Ruggero Deodato’s infamous 1980 shocker Cannibal Holocaust, that had a lot to say about how media exploits other countries, or tragedy. You watch these films and the focus and intent is far clearer. They’re hard to watch, but by the end of the movie, you’ve reached a point of clarity, and even an understanding for these people, and why they did the horrible things they’ve done. Or why a director would choose to show something in such an uncompromising way.

A Serbian Film doesn’t end that way. I didn’t get that feeling of morale or clarity that comes with the titles I mentioned above, that this film seems to want to emulate to a certain political degree. No, instead, the film ends with a cynical opening for a sequel, and a promise to further violate its victims beyond their trauma – hell, beyond their death. And where’s the message in that?

C: Srdjan Todorovic, Sergej Trifunovic, Jelena Gavrilovic, Lena Bogdanovic, Katarina Zutic. D: Srdjan Spasojevic. Sub genre: Torture/Thriller. Time: 104 minutes. Ratio: (2.40:1) Widescreen. Unrated: Intense, sadistic and brutal violence, including depraved acts of sexual activity and torture, graphic nudity, drug use, strong language and gore.

The Best Digital Bang For Your Hard-Earned Buck:

Neither the DVD or Blu-Ray contain any special features whatsoever.

Sequels: None, but it’s open for one…

Remakes: None. And I’d be surprised if anyone had the balls…

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