The enforced jollity of family Christmas celebrations is thrown into chilling relief in David Kapac and Andrija Mardešic’s new film, The Uncle, which received its world premiere in the Proxima competition at Karlovy Vary. Apparently set in 1980s Yugoslavia, it depicts a family who is forced to wait, each day, for the arrival of a beloved Uncle (played by veteran Serbian actor Predrag Miki Manojlovic) and then attempt to perform the perfect festive celebrations for his judgement and pleasure. Admittedly stretched somewhat across its 100-minute runtime, it is nonetheless an effective exercise in dark comedy and high tension that also hints at themes of diaspora and nostalgia for an imagined, perfect past.
Things seem off from the very first moments, when Mum (Ivana Rošcic), Dad (Goran Bogdan) and their son (Roko Sikavica), are nervously preparing for a guest’s arrival. Their conversations are strained, the son seems to be behaving in a manner more juvenile than his years, and details seem not to make sense. However, the reality of their situation soon becomes evident. When Uncle arrives, driving home from Germany for the holidays, they must go through a painstakingly rehearsed and ritualised approximation of Christmas day. From the exchanging of gifts to the precise crispness of skin on the turkey, or a slow dance with Mum to his favourite song, everything is required to be just so. When events go slightly askew, anxiety grips them all and Uncle’s disapproval is readily apparent.
Each day, they must prepare to deliver the same Christmas, hoping that the next one will be perfect. At one point Mum asks Uncle about “Sis” and he responds that she was sadly unable to make the trip from Germany this year. It becomes clear that their attempts at the perfect day are a part of a bargain for Sis to be returned to them. Hints at the nature and origin of the scenario are sprinkled throughout but never amount to a great deal of narrative context. At one point Uncle shows them a photograph album that shows Sis growing from a child to a teenager suggesting they’ve been locked in this terrifying loop for years.
The Uncle revels in its period details: familiar patterned oranges and browns adorn their chunky sweaters and Mum’s knee-length dresses; Uncle delights in explaining the ‘vid-e-o’ with which he will make a record of their celebrations. It was a meticulous construction job for the filmmakers and their art director, Ivana Škrabalo – made all the more pertinent to the story when Uncle receives a call on his mobile phone, and the basic reality of when the events are occurring is revealed to be just as meticulous a construction job. The active placement of this charade in the milieu of an 80s Yugoslavia hints at potential allegories regarding life under the rule of the socialist state, Uncle’s longing for a disappeared – or perhaps fabricated – past, and his memories of interactions with a Yugoslav diaspora.
The interplay between Uncle and the family is expertly constructed, showing the insidious nature of his logic and the “deal” that has been struck. Despite his position as a homicidal hostage-taker, his demeanour is one of calm and reasonable authority and his method undermines the family’s power of combined resistance by engendering frustration and recriminations within the rank and file. ‘You’re ungrateful. People always say that wish every day was Christmas. And you have Christmas every day,’ claims Uncle in a rejoinder that echoes with the chilling overtones of many ruthless regimes.
However, such political allegories seem to live in the margins in what is, in its crux, a psychological thriller that riffs on the surface pleasantries and underlying torture of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games. Director of Photography Miloš Jacimovic constantly catches people towards the edge of frames, or at the very least off centre, cramping them in the space of the cinema screen in a way that visually prompts a feeling of discomfort in the audience. Kapac and Mardešic’s screenplay toys with the concept of Chekov’s gun a little, introducing items such as an axe or a liberal dose of rat poison which seem destined to become pivotal plot devices but which, when they do reappear, are just assimilated into to endless variations on the day. This very fact does mean that The Uncle can, itself, feel repetitive and as much as this might be an intentional effect for the audience to endure some level of the family’s exasperation, it means the audience may, at times, feel exasperated. Still, Kapac and Mardešic succeeded in making a gruelling and gripping thriller out of the fake smiles people feel forced to wear at Christmas.
Directors, screenplay: David Kapac, Andrija Mardešic
Producers: Ivan Kelava, Tomo Vujic, Milan Stojanovic
Cast: Predrag Miki Manojlovic, Ivana Rošcic, Goran Bogdan, Roko Sikavica, Kaja Šišmanovic
Cinematography: Miloš Jacimovic
Editing: Tomislav Stojanovic
Sound: Frano Homen
Music: Miro Manojlovic
Art Direction: Ivana Škrabalo
Production companies: Eclectica (Croatia), Sense production (Serbia)
Venue: Karlovy Vary (Proxima Competition)
In Croatian
104 minutes
