Srdjan Dragojevic dedicates his film 'The Wounds' to "post-Tito generations," and it can be seen as of a piece with his previous film 'Pretty Village, Pretty Flame,' an allegory concerning the Bosnian conflict that was one of the angriest, most jarring anti-war films I've seen. 'The Wounds' is an even more aggressive film, told in non-linear fashion, like 'Pretty Village,' beginning in 1996, coiling five years back in time, and progressing to its starting point, so that the events that follow from thereon have an even greater immediacy. The storyteller is a young man named Pinki, born on the day of Marshal Tito's death, named such because his father was arrested after naming him "Tito" -- in honor of the fallen leader, but interpreted by authorities as an insult.
Pinki and his pal Kraut idolize a gangster known as Dickie, who lives in the same housing project. Dickie, an impulsive sociopath who carries a gun at all times and fires it into his television set at random, takes them under his wing and grooms them to become violent criminals. The film, by this point, may begin to remind a viewer of 'GoodFellas,' or the more current 'City of God,' from Brazil. But while those films were stylistically bold, this film is stylistically outrageous. Srdjan Dragojevic slings acid in the face of the viewer, forever surprising his audience with uncompromising nastiness. One does not grow inured to the shocks, however, because the shocks have poetry and relevance, and the movie is tremendously entertaining. This is very exciting filmmaking, the likes of which dwarfs recent work from American filmmakers like Scorsese and Tarantino. Furthermore, it's probably better than anything else from the arguably competitive recent spate of films from the former Yugoslavia, all of which yield a collective cry of anger in the face of the Bosnian civil war, the social conditions of that region, and the region's recent history.
Like other Yugoslav films, 'The Wounds' employs a burlesque tone in its depiction of sexuality, violence, social revolt, and family strife, and yet it does so with such conviction that the movie becomes hypnotic. It would be satire, except its anger is so palpable. It would be allegory, except its writing is so vivid. Whatever it is, it's not easily forgotten.
Pinki and his pal Kraut idolize a gangster known as Dickie, who lives in the same housing project. Dickie, an impulsive sociopath who carries a gun at all times and fires it into his television set at random, takes them under his wing and grooms them to become violent criminals. The film, by this point, may begin to remind a viewer of 'GoodFellas,' or the more current 'City of God,' from Brazil. But while those films were stylistically bold, this film is stylistically outrageous. Srdjan Dragojevic slings acid in the face of the viewer, forever surprising his audience with uncompromising nastiness. One does not grow inured to the shocks, however, because the shocks have poetry and relevance, and the movie is tremendously entertaining. This is very exciting filmmaking, the likes of which dwarfs recent work from American filmmakers like Scorsese and Tarantino. Furthermore, it's probably better than anything else from the arguably competitive recent spate of films from the former Yugoslavia, all of which yield a collective cry of anger in the face of the Bosnian civil war, the social conditions of that region, and the region's recent history.
Like other Yugoslav films, 'The Wounds' employs a burlesque tone in its depiction of sexuality, violence, social revolt, and family strife, and yet it does so with such conviction that the movie becomes hypnotic. It would be satire, except its anger is so palpable. It would be allegory, except its writing is so vivid. Whatever it is, it's not easily forgotten.