Father

How desperate must a mother be to douse herself with gasoline next to her own children and threaten to set herself on fire if her husband (Goran Bogdan) is not finally paid his salary? Nikola, a casual laborer, has already been deprived of his wages for two years. Her children are hungry. There is no other job in sight. The drastic protest suicide attempt in the deepest province of Serbia fortunately goes wrong. But it lands the injured mother in hospital and calls the youth welfare office into action. The two children, a boy and a girl, are immediately placed with foster parents. The father is summoned to a hearing. Nikola is told to fix up his dilapidated house, connect water and electricity and show that he can take responsibility - then they will see what happens... Nikola fulfills all the requirements, but the head of the local administration, Nikola learns from a sympathetic security guard, is corrupt. He places children with families in his home village in return for a hefty chunk of the state care allowance. Nikola has no chance. And so the giant decides to travel to Belgrade to complain to the responsible minister - 300 kilometers, on foot, through a country deeply divided between rich and poor, between transformation and upheaval. Despite its dramatic opening, “Father” turns out to be an incomparably moving story about the unlimited power of fatherly love and the bottomless disaster of a politically run-down Serbia, characterized by very quiet humour. A man who has had almost everything taken from him frees himself from the stigmatization imposed on him and takes action. Nikola doesn't have much, but he has his body and his determination, which he uses to achieve his goals. The hero of the story encounters corruption, lack of opportunity and abuse of power at every turn, but also a willingness to help and quiet admiration when he succinctly explains that the state took his children. Nikola's calm, non-violent but unrelenting protest runs in circles and reaches the hearts of his fellow human beings - and those of the audience. Director Srdan Golubović, who has already been nominated twice for an Oscar for his work abroad, uses a true story to tell of civil resistance against injustice and for the right to beloved children - even if they grow up in poverty. He succeeded in doing this so movingly, without music, but full of narrative power and complexity, that his film won both the Audience (Main) Award and the Prize of the Ecumenical Jury in the Panorama section of the Berlinale. The film earned its great, intensely silent lead actor Goran Bogdan a nomination for the European Film Award. What rage there must be in this father - and what a force in this film! “Golubović succeeds in making a film that is multi-layered in every respect: an empathetic study of a society of those left behind who suffer from the consequences of a corrupt system and post-socialist despotism; a darker road trip that maps a country between beautiful nature and concrete neglect with every step the hero takes. And above all, a film about a loving father who fights for his children in silent protest. Actor Goran Bogdan needs no words, no emotional outbursts, not even extroverted facial acrobatics to make us understand. We can read the anger, despair and determination in his angular, pale face and bulky, determined physique. What the Croatian actor [...] conjures up on the screen is great art. [...] As gloomy as Golubović's view of his homeland may seem, there is also a lot of love in it. “Otac” is a deeply humanistic film about a hero who, despite all adversity, repeatedly experiences the charity of his fellow human beings. His quietly trembling body and the tears when he is given food, the only moment of emotional release, are etched on the retina. Nevertheless, “Otac” makes no false promises.” (Jens Balkenborg, at: www.epd-film.de)