Slovenian documentarian Petra Seliskar’s The Mountain Won’t Move, which had its world premiere in the International Feature Film Competition at Visions du Réel in Nyon, invites us into the daily rhythms and close-knit dynamics of a group of brothers aged between eight and twenty working as shepherds high in the Sar Mountains in North Macedonia.
They live a physically demanding but straightforward existence tending sheep, cattle and goats away from the rest of their family below, helped by huge Karabash dogs bred to guard against roving wolves. Their way of life has through generations seemed as inevitable and unavoidable as the rain, but now the brothers are questioning their future on the mountain, as a more urbanised, digitally connected world made immediate by smartphones presents distractions and alternatives.
Seliskar’s sixth feature-length documentary is less rawly personal than her previous Body (2023), about a close friend battling an auto-immune disease, but it is a film of generous and unhurried observation that is still anchored in a great sensitivity to human and animal protagonists alike. With an endearing, earthy honesty and gentle eye for ironic humour, the director is able to bring a freshness to the timeworn theme of the clash between tradition and a rapidly changing global reality, as she invites us into a lesser-known corner of Southeast Europe. Amid work routines that are slow and unyielding in their repetition, D.O.P. Brand Ferro captures the rugged beauty of this rocky landscape in sun, storm and night — an atmospheric drama of the elements that is captivating in its own right. A folk-tinged soundtrack by Slovenian musician Iztok Koren blends unobtrusively with the livestock bells and wind.
Farm labour is not a chosen profession here so much as a way of life men are born into, putting in hours of labour in the pastures not much after they’ve mastered their first steps. Basri, who is eight, has headed up to the stone cottage to help with the flocks. Led by Zekir who, at twenty, is the eldest, the more seasoned brothers impart know-how on herding, rolling cigarettes, preparing cheese, and even tips on women — though sexual relationships are a mere fantasy and a frustration at altitude in this exclusively male domain (a sister pays a visit, during time off school, but shepherding seems to have never been a duty or option for her.)
Zarif, sixteen and the second-oldest, feels a special affinity with the Karabash dogs, and considers them a part of the family, so much so that when his favourite, Belichka, is lent out to a breeder who breaks his promise to return her as puppies are a lucrative business, it becomes a simmering point of contention in the family. Loss is unavoidable in this harsh environment, where even the wind can feel like an adversary, and dogs die frequently from accidents, snake bites or attacks on each other, but human greed and deception hits Zarif’s sensibility differently. A few of the canines have, amusingly, been named after former dictators, but this outpost feels largely forgotten by the oversight of government, and the brothers note that politicians are more inclined to line their own pockets than extend a road up to them, or improve mobile reception.
The laddish brothers are taciturn, but Seliskar is not one for moralising assumptions or overexplaining. At times this can leave us wishing for more backstory or cultural contextualisation, but as her open and calm eye simply allows this world to unfold through small incidents and moments of connection, we develop a sense of its rhythms, free of the gloss of pastoral idealisation or a forced story arc, but alive with the sensory thrill of sudden thunderstorms or free-spirited play. Zarif’s desire to go abroad becomes the main hook of narrative tension, a plan that Zekir does not oppose, but is aware would leave even more toil for him to shoulder — and larger doubts over the sustainability of shepherding on the mountain, as fewer men remain.
Director: Petra Seliskar
Screenwriters: Petra Seliskar, Tancrede Riviere
Editing: Laureline Delom, Sashko Potter Micevski
Producers: Sarah Ferro, Victor Ede, Petra Seliskar
Cinematographer: Brand Ferro
Sound: Vladimir Rakic
Music: Iztok Koren
Production companies: PPFP (North Macedonia), Cinephage (France), Petra Pan Films (Slovenia)
Sales: Open Kitchen Films
Venue: Visions du Réel (International Feature Film Competition)
In Albanian, Macedonian
94 minutes
