The big prize-winner at this year’s Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, Serbian director Stefan Arsenijevic’s As Far as I Can Walk is a modern migrant story with historic literary echoes. It borrows its original Serbian title and loose narrative structure from Strahinja Banovi?, a 14th century epic poem about a nobleman searching for his wife after she has been kidnapped by Turkish raiders. In Arsenijevic’s contemporary interpolation, the hero is a West African refugee searching for his spouse, who has voluntarily left him behind in Belgrade to seek better prospects in Western Europe. Fragmentary lines from the poem appear in voice-over, sometimes working in direct harmony with the action on screen, sometimes in ironic counterpoint.
Arsenijevic, who earned an Oscar nomination his prize-winning 2003 short A(Torzija) and warm reviews for his 2008 full-length debut Love and Other Crimes, has clearly taken his time crafting this second feature. Featuring an international cast, including a background chorus of real refugees, As Far as I Can Walk is a compassionate and imaginative response to Europe’s ongoing immigration crisis. Its emotional power sometimes gets a little lost in translation, while its literary conceit can feel more stylistic gimmick than essential dramatic element in places, but the overall grand ambition is hard to fault. After multiple wins in Karlovy Vary, including the top Crystal Globe award and the best actor prize, this off-beat road movie should march its way into further festival slots and niche outlets. Mostly English-language dialogue will help open doors internationally.
Young married couple Samita (French actor Ibrahim Koma) and Ababuo (Ghana-born Nancy Mensah-Offei) are Ghanaian migrants living in a shabby but functional refugee camp outside Belgrade. Having recently been deported from Germany, the pair are embroiled in the long, tortuous, Kafka-esque process of applying for asylum in Serbia. Nicknamed “Strahinja” by his local friends, Samita has begun putting down roots in Belgrade, learning the language and showing great promise as a football player. But Ababuo has grander ambitions, and is unwilling to give up her dreams of working as an actor in Britain. There is obvious tenderness between them, but love alone may not be strong enough to keep them together.
As a fresh exodus of refugees fleeing civil war in Syria swells the camp, Ababuo spots a new chance of escape. On return from celebrating his breakthrough football promotion in Belgrade, Samita discovers his wife has left without telling him, joining a Syrian group as they attempt an illegal border crossing into Hungary. Calling in favors from his roguish Serbian friend Aca (Slaviša ?urovi?), who runs a team of people-smuggling taxi drivers, Samita sets off for the border in search of Ababuo, stung by her treachery but still desperate to stop her leaving. This high-risk strategy risks putting his marriage, his asylum status and his future sporting career in jeopardy.
The dramatic texture of As Far as I Can Walk shifts during Samita’s frantic search, away from naturalism towards a more folkloric, allegorical tone. Wandering alone through a limnal no man’s land of muddy fields, lost highways and wintry woodlands, his quest becomes as much symbolic as literal, a poor wayfaring stranger lost between emotional states as much as between national borders. Parallels with the poem come into sharper relief here as Samita concludes his hero’s journey with a lesson in mercy, trading vengeful rage for kindness just as Banovi? did in the original text.
One of Arsenijevic’s avowed goals with As Far as I Can Walk was to portray refugees as distinct individuals with inner lives, dreams and aspirations, not just blank statistics. In this he is admirably successful, although he sometimes burdens his cast with stilted speeches and stiff, overly literal dialogue. His protagonists can also appear strangely impassive, as if insulated from the high-stakes drama unfolding around them. That said, Koma gives a lively and engaging lead performance, while Jelena Stankovi?’s cinematography finds mournful beauty in the drab, damp, autumnal landscapes of northern Serbia. There is poetry here, both literally and metaphorically.
Director: Stefan Arsenijevi?
Screenplay: Stefan Arsenijevi?, Bojan Vuleti?, Nicolas Ducray
Cast: Ibrahim Koma, Nancy Mensah-Offei, Maxim Khalil, Rami Farah, Nebojša Dugali?, Slaviša ?urovi?
Producer: Miroslav Mogorovi?
Cinematography: Jelena Stankovi?
Editing: Vanja Kova?evi?
Music: Martynas Bialobžeskis
Production companies: Art & Popcorn (Serbia), Surprise Alley (France), Les Films Fauves (Luxembourg), Chouchkov Brothers (Bulgaria), Artbox (Lithuania)
World sales: Soul Food Films, Belgrade
Venue: Karlovy Vary Film Festival (Crystal Globe competition)
In English, Serbian
92 minutes