How to search for good films - BelDocs

The dawn bathes Berlin in a soft light as I make my way to the airport. Fatigue still hangs heavy in my limbs. At the gate, I realize that Belgrade is expecting a lot of visitors. Like me, many of my colleagues from Berlin’s creative scene have set off early to BelDocs and Mikser Festival (which celebrates art, architecture and fashion). The rest of the passengers on the plane are a little out of the ordinary. Half the cabin is taken up by Rammstein fans – the band is playing in the Serbian capital this same weekend.

On the festival shuttle to the hotel, I meet Ibrahim, the director of haunting film »Hollywoodgate«, and Natalja, a member of the Documentary Association of Europe (DAE) board. Our conversations immediately turn to schedules, film recommendations and our anticipation for the upcoming discussions. As we drive through the socialist buildings of New Belgrade, I can’t help but think about the city’s turbulent past and the difficult political situation in which the country currently finds itself.

The omnipresence of history

After I arrive, Berlin friends who have found a home away from home in Belgrade invite me to lunch by the water. One restaurant follows the next. My friends explain that these establishments all belong to the same tycoon. Because of the drizzle, we sit inside and talk about movies and architecture to the sound of booming music. Our walk back to the city centre provides an illustration of what we have just been discussing: the sterile new waterfront with its luxury apartments. To build it, countless old buildings that had previously housed subculture and refugee accommodations were bulldozed virtually overnight in 2016.

The city centre, on the other hand, still reflects Belgrade’s multi-layered history. After gaining independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1867, the city became a Balkan metropolis, adorned with an array of neoclassical and art nouveau buildings. However, numerous bombings during the wars tore gaps in the old architecture, which were filled by the new builds typical of the socialist era.

Films that change the world

After lunch, the film programme begins for me at the House of Youth, one of such gap-filling buildings.

»My Stolen Planet« tells the very personal story of an Iranian director searching for traces of past freedoms in old private film footage. I am particularly touched by the director’s school photo. In it, she wears a black headscarf – with the same grim expression that I recognize from similar photos shown to me by my Iranian friends.

The second movie of the evening is »The Neptune’s Tempest«. It tells the story of a small Mediterranean island fighting against mass tourism. It is a universal story that easily translates to many places around the world. I am excited that we will show this beautiful film at Dokumentale this year and welcome director Katarina Stankovi. Back out on the street, I’m overwhelmed by the humidity and volume; the pre-party for the Rammstein concert is booming right next to the movie theatre. The bass will accompany me to sleep for the next few days. Over an after-work beer on Dorcol Square – where Mikser Festival is taking place – I meet a psychologist from Belgrade. In her former life, she was a journalist, and she only survived the 1999 NATO bombing of the high-rise building that housed the national television station by chance. The wars can be felt everywhere here, not just in the external features of the cityscape but also in countless stories.

Between films and people

In the pouring rain, my second day at the festival begins with work-in-development pitches. Film-makers and producers present their film projects to find potential partners and funding sources. For me as a festival representative, it’s a good way to get a feel for which stories and themes are nearing completion and which projects I might be able to show at the Dokumentale in two or three years’ time.

Immediately afterwards, the DAE hosts a panel on the emotional toll of our profession. Next to me there are Ibrahim Nash'at, director of the important film »Hollywoodgate«, and Anna Dziapshipa, a Georgian director who is protesting against her country’s Foreign Agent Law. The panel is moderated by wonderful Cem Öztüfekçi. Although we may look at many things from different perspectives, we agree that our constant preoccupation with injustice leaves its mark and that mental health should play a greater role in our industry. At the same time, we are united by the hope that our films might be able to change more than we currently think.

In the afternoon, I watch »Le Reine«, a poetic 16mm documentary about a British non-conformist who has built his own little sanctuary in the south of France. Afterwards, I hurry to the dinner organized by BelDocs. These curated meetings are so valuable because they offer the opportunity to exchange ideas with colleagues from all over the world and launch new collaborations. I am lucky enough to have a very long, intensive discussion with colleagues from Finland, Denmark and Bosnia. The focus is on the challenges that these crisis-ridden times pose to our festivals.

On the way to the hotel, the streets are filled with Rammstein fans. Once again, I fall asleep to the reverberating bass.

Belgrade in the sunshine.

My last day at the festival begins. I start it in the bright sunshine at Mikser Festival on Dorcol Square. A poetry slam takes place outside while one of the architects of Holzmarkt speaks inside. He talks about the idea and vision behind it. Holzmarkt is the sister location of Dorcol Square - a cultural oasis. From films, concerts and exhibitions to techno ballet, Dorcol Square offers a diverse programme.

In the afternoon, I watch an impressive combination of short films and get to know the makers behind »Total Resistance«. What they say – such as disobedience being the most important means of securing democracy – wanders through my mind for the rest of the day. This critical examination is followed by »TeraForma«, a philosophical essay on our deliberate interventions into nature.

As my plane is leaving Belgrade at the crack of dawn, I decide to go to bed early. On the shuttle to town, we had joked about simply partying through the night. But when my alarm goes off at three in the morning, I’m glad to have gotten at least a few hours’ sleep. Once again, it’s the booming bass from the city centre that greets me first.

On the plane back to Berlin, I think about Belgrade and BelDocs – and find myself looking forward to Dokumentale even more. Together with BelDocs, we will be bringing selected films from the Balkans to Berlin and philosophizing with our audience about gentrification, sanctuaries and subculture.