Kad čuješ zvona

V'19

Kad čuješ zvona

When You Hear the Bells

Antun Vrdoljak
YU, 1969
92min, skrOmeU

Bild: Hrvatski filmski arhiv Bild: Hrvatski filmski arhiv

Kad čuješ zvona

Antun Vrdoljak
YU, 1969
, 92min, skrOmeU

So
03
Nov 19
11:30
Filmmuseum
So
01
Dez 19
18:30
Filmmuseum
Mit: 
Boris Buzančić
Pavle Vuisić
Boris Dvornik
Ivica Vidović
Fabijan Šovagović
Drehbuch: 
Antun Vrdoljak
basierend auf Motiven aus Ivan Šibl’s Kriegstagebuch
Kamera: 
Frano Vodopivec
Schnitt: 
Radojka Tanhofer
Musik: 
Anđelko Klobučar

Produktion: 
Filmska radna zajednica Zagreb
CFRZ Beograd
Format: 
35 mm
Farbe
Print courtesy of Hrvatski filmski arhiv

Selten wurde die Komplexität von Geschichte und Krieg so humanistisch und klar gezeichnet wie in KAD ČUJEŠ ZVONA und seinem Zwillingsfilm U GORI RASTE ZELEN BOR. Umso erstaunlicher, dass deren kroatischer Regisseur in den 1990er Jahren rechtsgerichtete Politkarriere machen sollte. KAD ČUJEŠ ZVONA ist eine Studie menschlicher Schwäche, die kritisch über jene „Unterschiede“ reflektiert – religiöse, ethnische, kulturelle –, die so oft als Vorwand für Konflikte herhalten müssen. Zwei Dörfer im Kampf: Das eine, mit leuchtend roten Sternen, auf Partisanenseite, das andere auf Seiten der Ustascha. Ein düsterer, zugleich poetischrealistischer Film über das Menschsein im Krieg.

 

The complexity of history and war has rarely been handled with such humanism and lucidity as in KAD ČUJEŠ ZVONA. The film and its twin feature U GORI RASTE ZELEN BOR are distinguished by a genre-bending approach that takes several great, almost mythical subjects, transforming them into a subtle existential tapestry with characters as perfectly flawed and intricate as imaginable. With an adept stylistic hand and nuanced eye, assisted by renowned cinematographer Frano Vodopivec, Croatian director Antun Vrdoljak showed all the makings of a true master of cinema. The infamous right-wing political career he pursued in the ’90s becomes all the more astonishing in light of the gritty poetic realism of KAD ČUJEŠ ZVONA, a study in human frailty and a condemnation of shortsighted ‘differences’ (whether religious, ethnic or cultural) as the cause of any and every conflict. In this case, one village is fighting another – the first is on the partisan side, with prominently embroidered red stars shining forth both day and night, while the other village supports the Ustashe. Support is an ambiguous term, as much of the film goes to show, astutely revealing the layers behind the deceptively obvious. With a remarkable cast headed by a superb Pavle Vuisić, the film brings humanity to war, a notion that will never seem abstract again.