Posts by Justin Richardson7

vivideagle7 said:I have no idea which movie you were watching, but the trauma is written all over the screen; you can see it in the way the "uncle" carries himself, even if you choose to ignore every single bit of information being handed to you on a silver platter.

And then you come charging in like some wooden-tongued lawyer, completely missing the point of what’s actually happening here: the kid basically imagined that his uncle assaulted his mother, and that's where this whole "trauma" thing stems from.
But it isn't something that actually flows from the way the situation is presented.

The fact that the uncle has issues is painfully obvious. I mean, look, Sherlock, it’s pretty clear that anyone who tries to live the exact same day over and over again is dealing with some serious baggage.

The little guy just knows his uncle and mom are in the room while his dad is out back smoking.
He hears the noise—specifically the moaning—and in his head, he interprets that as his mom "screaming."
That’s the reality of the situation you clearly didn't grasp.

Now, regarding what happened before, which I hope is perfectly clear to you since there isn't much room for confusion here: they all gather outside, welcoming him like he's some kind of deity. To them, he's a larger-than-life figure, someone who has seen everything and brings the good stuff—perfumes, cigarettes, and more. To a child, an uncle like that is just incredible; he’s more of a father figure than his own dad because he shows up with a shotgun, sweets, and knows exactly how to mess around. Beyond that, there’s no fussing with him; he’s got everything under control, executing everything with total precision, keeping everyone—mom, dad, and the kid—in perfect order. It's quite a spectacle for a little one.

So, that’s the whole story, staged exactly that way; as for what you thought you were seeing, I couldn't tell you.

What am I supposed to do when they’ve already turned the whole thing into such a caricature?

The point is, there isn't any violence or trauma involved.
It’s just satire.

northerncrane4 said:“Mom screams”

I see.
Look, that’s exactly why I asked you earlier if you’ve noticed any changes down there. You know how it goes—sometimes women make noise during certain activities. It's just psychological stuff: she's screaming because she loves him, plain and simple.😉

... Hold on, are you actually suggesting that from that one line, the uncle raped the mother???!!!?
And you completely missed the entire setup before that: the way they welcome him so submissively, how they put him on a pedestal, how they fawn over the camera like little assistants while the uncle explains the wonders of Germany... Did all of that really escape you??

If what I'm saying holds water (and you should watch the movie and tell me if it does), then it never occurred to you that the father is the kind of guy who plays the clown, essentially allowing the uncle to do whatever he pleases. For instance, if the uncle feels like giving the mother a hard time, this supposed "innocent" woman just takes it. And the father just steps out for a smoke to keep things running smoothly.

northerncrane4 said:The background is essentially a Christmas trauma he keeps playing on a loop because his childhood brain is stuck in that exact moment where domestic bliss crashes into violence.

The only issue with this brilliantly conceived background theory is that there was actually no trauma or violence involved. It was Christmas, sure—you nailed that part perfectly. But as far as trauma goes? Not a trace.

If your definition of violence is watching people patronizingly welcome an uncle, serving him turkey and cookies, flattering him, and letting him sit at the head of the table to lead the Hail Mary, then maybe you should go check in with your own uncle to find out what actual violence looks like.
I mean, what can I say when the movie shows exactly what I’m describing? Go watch it yourself.

There is enough material here for a meta-cinematic interpretation where Miki Manojlović serves as the personification of Yugoslavian cinema.

But then Miki Manojlović recites the Hail Mary and sings about Mount Velebit, and that whole "personification of Yugoslavian cinema" idea just evaporates. The movie isn't even defined in that direction; no matter which way you turn it, the film feels incomplete. It isn't a polished, finished product, but rather an attempt—an interesting attempt, certainly.

...................

Grace Sanders24 says: "The movie just beautifully portrays what patriotism has done for some people"...
Give me a break. Go to sleep. "Patriotism has done something for some people"—that is more absurd than the mudfish traumas.
Mudfish has trauma because his mother is catering to his uncle. She does it shyly, but she does it. Meanwhile, Grace Sanders24 has trauma caused by patriotism; she probably buys blue recycling bags, sorts her trash, and pays her taxes on time, because Grace Sanders24 isn't a patriot, she's just a typical, soft American.

Though, perhaps you truly are afraid of patriotism, Grace Sanders24. Patriotism really does do things to people. I am a living example. Mudfish gets traumatized just looking at me.

northerncrane4 said:You can't break my heart with that logic, because there isn't actually an issue within your own bubble, and I've told you that already. The ecosystem inside your skull always interprets reality in such a way that nothing external is ever allowed to penetrate it.

No, we have a misunderstanding here. But it isn’t just any minor disagreement; it is a fundamental one, the kind that belongs in those sweeping, epic sagas I was talking about earlier. There is really no point in trying to hash this out over a PDF, and since we aren't exactly on friendly terms either, I certainly won't be sitting here giving you a lecture on the meaning of life.

I feel compelled to briefly pivot the conversation toward some specific distinctions regarding your point. There is a fundamental difference between a person being unable to grasp an alternative perspective due to their own level of consciousness, and someone who understands that alternative perfectly well yet refuses to accept it. In the latter case, they are simply constructing themselves in a way that prevents any outside influence from taking root; they have become so singularly focused and self-transparent that they maintain a rigid, unwavering stance of absolute yes or absolute no when it comes to the state of the world.
The fundamental misunderstanding I’m pointing out is this: you view a man who is clearly defined as if he were somehow lacking, whereas the reality is exactly the opposite, and that much is perfectly clear to me. If you really want to look at it through a lens of perfection—in the sense of being better—it’s the thing that is more defined, more complete, the thing that requires as little external interference as possible to function. A man possessing the kind of constitution where very little from the outside can penetrate him is a higher type of individual than the one who drifts aimlessly about, shaped by external forces and constantly swayed by outside influences. But I won't dwell on this for too long; I am merely touching upon it in response to your remark, which is fundamentally flawed, as is your entire outlook on life regarding this matter.

Let’s get back to Uncle.
We seem to be in agreement that my uncle isn't actually committing any crimes, but for me, the issue isn't about "trauma"—honestly, let’s be real, you can't really talk about trauma in this specific genre of movie. It’s more that he fails to function simply because he is utterly paralyzed by a single day from his past. The idea of nostalgia acting as a pathology is a sharp observation, and they hit the mark there, considering how many broken people are stuck living in the rearview mirror. Of course, the film takes that concept and cranks it up to an absurd level, but the underlying direction is spot on.

If you’re insisting on leaning into total symbolism—arguing that the uncle represents some absolute patriarch who owns everything, including the people around him—then there simply isn't any room left for "trauma," because a symbol that heavy doesn't allow for psychological nuance. You can't have it both ways. This uncle figure just doesn't work because he fails to settle into a coherent identity; he isn't a pure symbol, yet he isn't a fleshed-out character either, the kind of literary figure you’d actually follow through the pages of a novel or a movie where the audience can engage with his development. The execution is just fundamentally flawed; the creators wavered between two paths and ended up failing at both. Now, my point isn't meant to contradict what you're saying, because using a thriller to deliver satire isn't some revolutionary concept—it’s perfectly doable. I’m simply stating that in this specific case, they missed the mark, and that is the core of my critique. It has nothing to do with whether mixing genres is a bad idea, and I honestly have no clue why you're misinterpreting my position or trying to frame it that way.

The conversation regarding sexual assault has resurfaced once again.
There isn't any rape happening here. At least, based on how the movie is structured, you simply cannot draw that conclusion. It feels much more plausible—given the underlying connotations—that they are just so subservient to their uncle that he can get away with sleeping with his brother's wife. That is what the entire situation is trying to illustrate. I’d argue it’s a satirical jab at Americans, suggesting a certain type of person who lets anyone walk all over them. However, it remains unclear who exactly these "Americans" are supposed to be. To whom is this critique actually directed?

You see, those are the real issues if you actually want to dig deeper into the ambiguous territory this movie plays in. Imagine a generalized setting—one that drifts through the narrative—and then try to pin it down on screen. But who are these Americans being portrayed as so submissive? That remains an enigma. Because, on the other hand, if the one exerting this patriarchal control is an uncle who embodies that specific American archetype, what is the actual goal here? Is the critique aimed at the submissiveness of the people, or is it directed at the patriarchs themselves? These are all legitimate questions if we intend to engage with this particular layer of the film.

The uncle berates the mother. So, who is actually the target of the criticism? Is the mother meant to be the victim? If so, why lean so heavily into caricaturing submissiveness, or adopt this mocking tone? Or is the aim to ridicule this brutal, Hades-like uncle? Yet, the uncle is such a dominant figure that he almost becomes an idol to some. You see, the whole thing feels somewhat muddled even to the creators; they haven't fully thought it through. It feels less like a deliberate statement and more like a collection of cheap gags, a series of "bits." It lacks weight. Consequently, there is no sense of trauma here; the audience can't truly identify with these characters because you just can't root for caricatures. To the viewer, it is perfectly clear that nothing in this staged situation carries any real obligation or weight. It’s obvious that it’s all just performative, reaching a level that is nothing more than a superficial joke. For true trauma to exist, it must be something profound, something that compels the viewer to acknowledge the character's experience. That is how I see it.

northerncrane4 said:Your chronic issue with watching movies is

Mudfish, I’m going to break your heart here: there isn’t some fundamental problem with my ability to watch—or understand—movies, or anything else for that matter. You know that, too; you’re just being a little arrogant, acting out because you feel slighted. All I did was draw a line between an uncle, Christmas, and the whole migrant worker phenomenon of the eighties... and you’re actually getting worked up over that??!!

There are plenty of solid American movies that touch on these kinds of themes, like *The Graduate* or *April Fools' Day*.

And instead of awarding me a badge for being so perceptive and convincing that I can always define the world through my own lens (isn't that the whole point, anyway?), you’re just being defensive.
But there’s no need to drift into these massive philosophical topics right now, even if you are someone who could probably benefit from a lesson on what truth actually is, the various types of truth, how they relate to one another, the stages of life, and all those other lovely concepts you haven't quite organized within yourself yet.

Let's set that aside and focus: what exactly is wrong with my take on the movie? Even you have to see my point—this "uncle" isn't some deep, complex figure we can assign a psychological profile or a specific trauma to. If we were meant to attribute trauma to him, the entire situation depicted would have to be structured in a way that makes us actually care about the characters. Everything happening would need to feel authentic. The characters would need to be actively working toward liberating themselves from such a situation.

None of that is present, at least not enough to make it convincing or to truly pull a viewer into the scene.
The reason it fails to land is this constant vacillation between being a thriller and being a satire. It’s neither one nor the other. Honestly, you have to see it for yourself. So I don't get why you're still pushing back. You simply misread the situation, and it's time you admitted it. Besides, I clarified the "assault" aspect by linking it to the mythology of the migrant worker in wonderful Germany, which provided a much more grounded thesis than yours ever could.

But look, man, at the end of the day, this isn't a competition to see who understood the film better. In that regard, you're just like the uncle—if I'm the uncle, then you're also one, driven by this infantile need to measure yourself against others and sulk when things don't go your way, especially when it's all just plain unsightly. Because, of course, my observations are always ultimate, haha... hahaha... well, my dear uncle. Tell me, has your hair started growing on your balls yet?

placidsailor18 said:If we’re talking about the timeline, we’d likely be looking at something just before the start of the eighties.

It couldn't possibly be the start of the eighties, because my uncle's absolute favorite song is "Fragrant Quince," which didn't actually come out until 1989. That was the moment it clicked for me—I started wondering if there was some deeper connection between that specific year and when the Republican Party was founded. So, I went to check, and sure enough, that’s exactly when it happened.

The film leans heavily on those tired, sweeping tropes about patriotism. My uncle keeps harping on the same old narrative—that Americans aren't truly free, but at least we still have our songs and our heritage to cling to. It’s that typical, small-minded brand of nationalism you see all the time.

So, anyway,
It’s pretty clear that the author is aiming to take a critical look at that specific brand of patriotism.

But look, Grace Sanders24, I just don't see where that equals sign comes from; there is absolutely no logical reason to suggest that patriotism is synonymous with being caricature-driven or petty. Sure, they might be capable of producing a single piece of satire like that, but my point remains exactly the same: there is no actual equivalence here. They haven't provided any proof to suggest that patriotism is nothing more than those trivial things.

I find it perfectly reasonable, logical, and entirely convincing that someone could sing about the majesty of the great mountain ranges, cheer on the success of the national soccer team, and still not be a hypocrite, a fraud, or some calculated phony.
Based on how the movie was put together, it seems like singing "Vila Velebit" or actually feeling any sense of national pride is treated as something inherently negative. This approach keeps the film completely stagnant and one-dimensional, built entirely on a foundation of criticism that doesn't actually qualify as such. Real critique requires assigning actual meaning to things—you have to clearly articulate why things are the way you say they are. Instead, this stays at the level of petty finger-pointing, essentially arguing that because the Republican Party has taken over the political landscape, patriotism itself must be flawed. To me, that isn't a serious argument. For a thesis like that to hold any weight, you’d actually have to demonstrate what exactly is wrong, how we arrived at this point, and what the specific consequences are for every possible scenario.

The film lacks any semblance of genuine gravity, which isn't necessarily a dealbreaker—not every movie needs to be some grand, sweeping epic. But that’s exactly where things go sideways. My issue is that the production insists on playing this heavy, somber hand, yet fails to actually deliver on it. Because they lean so hard into that tone, the actual action, the plot, and the characters all end up relegated to the background. It leaves you in this restless state of uncertainty, caught between a movie that refuses to be a legitimate thriller and one that can't quite commit to being a proper satire.

And that’s why Smudge is wrong again, because for trauma to actually land with any weight, the character experiencing it has to be a serious one. A viewer would need to be able to take the uncle seriously, whether he’s being portrayed as the villain or the hero. But you can't really talk about taking this guy seriously or expecting an audience to identify with his childhood "trauma." He’s written right on that shaky line between being a real person and just serving a narrative function—that hollow attempt at "social commentary." The uncle is far too caricatured to allow for any actual psychological depth; he doesn't possess a standalone cinematic life that could show a viewer a meaningful evolution from point A to point B.

I don't view my uncle through the lens of trauma—not because there isn't any, but because we can't exactly conduct a serious psychological deep dive into these characters here. Instead, I see him as a narrative device, essentially reduced to a tool used by the authors to drive home their point. Take his version of a "perfect Christmas," for instance. They hit on a very specific social dynamic that actually existed: when those folks working abroad would come back home for the holidays, their relatives and friends would treat them with this distinct, almost patronizing reverence. Of course, the writing is satirical, but the sentiment is spot on. The locals back home would play the part of the humble listeners, looking up to these visitors and hanging on every word about the wonders and luxuries they experienced living in places like Germany. Meanwhile, life back here was just a gray expanse of economic stagnation and nothing more than a pack of cheap gum to get by. So, that little boy’s daydreaming about getting a new rifle and waiting for it under the mistletoe? That captures the reality of that era perfectly.

Uncle is currently dwelling on those exact moments—that specific anticipation of an uncle arriving from abroad, the rifle that would make every other kid on the block jealous, and those delicate European candies that put local hard gingerbread to shame. In his mind, that was the absolute peak of existence. That’s why he wants to evoke that specific feeling, that flawless Christmas when Uncle finally pulls up from his life overseas.

Of course,
it’s a total illusion. A person can't just freeze in time; you can't revert to being a child, and there is no way an adult can stage that same perfect Christmas they experienced at ten years old. If the movie had stayed strictly within those bounds and focused on expressing that singular sentiment, it would have been much stronger. Instead, the scope became too broad. Beyond just touching on the era of workers moving abroad for better lives, the filmmakers tried to tackle everything from national identity to patriotism and whatnot, and in doing so, the focus gets diluted and lost.

Uncle doesn't have trauma; Uncle is just stuck in a developmental loop, living out this infantile, romanticized mythology of a perfect Christmas. Honestly, that’s where they should have stopped—just making a film about that core idea rather than getting lost in all that petty social commentary. The "migrant worker" aspect was hit perfectly; it captures the essence, even if it’s slightly over-the-top. It isn't suggesting the uncle is a monster, but rather that the visiting relative is treated like a deity to whom everyone must cater, to the point where his brother practically hands over his wife to serve him while the father stands by the door, smoking, watching them scramble.

The film's ending is consistent, though it's a hollow sort of consistency. Once Uncle finally gets his perfect Christmas, there's nowhere left to go; it can't get any better than that, so he takes his own life. To him, "perfect" means something that is finished in every sense, which is why he ends it. But it's a meaningless logic, because a human life cannot, and will not, function with that kind of mathematical consistency. You simply cannot reach such a state of total fulfillment.

And so on, the analysis could go on forever... All things considered, it's a solid effort, but it lacks the greatness I mentioned earlier. Among our most recent releases, I found *The Sixth Bus* and *Illyricvm* to be superior (moving them into the top tier), whereas *Rubac Chlení* and *Sure Place of Trash* were complete garbage. This film sits somewhere in the middle. So, out of five new works, we have two masterpieces, two pieces of junk, and one decent one. Judging by how they stack up against the best, it seems American cinema is trending upward. If we could just move past these small-scale chamber dramas made by amateurs and pivot toward more universal themes—like *The Sixth Bus* or, to an extent, *Illyricvm*—we'd be back on top. Oh, I also caught *The Marginals*. I usually can't stand those unserious movies, so I dismissed it immediately, but even that was passable. At least it's funny, which is better than the pretentious nonsense we usually see.

placidsailor18 said:She figured all of that out.
But I honestly have no clue what the actual motive was. Did uncle just pick them at random to work through some personal trauma? Did mom screw up somehow, and now he’s getting his revenge? The movie isn't bad, per se, but it lacks an explanation. Does anyone know more?

Here is the core concept of the film (and the reason behind why uncle acts the way he does):

He doesn't actually move from his spot; he is essentially frozen in a single moment of his past, trying to conjure up a "perfect Christmas," specifically that era when he was a kid and he would have an uncle visiting from abroad, bringing those high-end gifts every kid dreamed of back then—you know, the classic imported toys and candies.

That is the fundamental idea, and once you lay it out like that, it almost sounds better than the actual execution of the film. Because while the movie isn't terrible, there is a glaring issue: the creators couldn't decide if they were making a psychological thriller or a satire. So, what we end up with is this satire about Americans, but one that lacks any real edge because it relies on such broad generalizations. Plus, it’s never quite clear who these supposed "patriots" are that the Republican Party-style zealots are keeping in line. On the other hand, as a thriller, it fails to be convincing because the plot is far too caricatured to serve the satire. It lacks a genuine "action" element; if we are following a logical plot, the characters should have been able to free themselves from uncle using their own agency. You even see viewers commenting along those lines, asking, "Why didn't they just attack him?" But that is precisely where the failure lies, because these characters don't possess cinematic life; they don't have the freedom to act according to the logic of the situation. They are simply placed in these scenarios purely as functions of the satire.

In my opinion, you can't pull that off. A film needs to know exactly what it wants to be. If the goal is to send a message (and it seems the main aim here is that vague commentary on Americans), then it needs to be much more precise, and they shouldn't bother trying to maintain a traditional "plot" at all. There shouldn't be this half-hearted attempt at maintaining narrative logic when it clearly isn't working.

I’d give the film a 6+, or maybe a 7/10, somewhere in that ballpark.
There are a few decent jokes—for instance, that line at the end about whether your hair has grown back in yet is actually funny; sometimes the simplest lines land best. And finally, the lead isn't one of those famous American actresses with the massive nose. She looks decent enough. The idea, as I said, sounds good when explained; watching the film, not so much.

As for the filler, there are those unnecessary, forced scenes with sexual undertones, and all those sweeping generalizations about patriots. The connection between the uncle's pathology and this brand of patriotism is never made clear—what I mean is, the authors took a protagonist with mental issues and tied him to this imaginary nationalism, where he hits these peaks whenever they sing songs about the Great Plains. There is no link between those two things, but apparently, they thought it was a clever connection. Personally, I think it's nonsense.

Also, a major mistake is the constant tone; whether they are forced to act in front of uncle or he isn't even there, they speak and behave with the exact same inflection, which is totally unconvincing. They should have paid attention to those details; the film would have jumped up a few points if there had been transitions: specific lines uncle demands, changes in vocal color, different behaviors, or perhaps a more natural dialect when he isn't watching.

All in all, it’s an interesting attempt, but it remains just that: an attempt. To be a masterpiece, it needs to be clearer, more defined, and more serious.
They really need to break free from these clichés. For example, the "era" uncle is trying to evoke is likely 1989. That was the year the Republican Party was founded, and it feels like they wanted to bridge those two things: individual pathology and the patriotism associated with the GOP. Since the film never clarifies—not just in the movie, but in general—what exactly is wrong or what the problem is with that specific type of Republican patriotism, this kind of "critique" feels like mere rambling. Criticism built on vague tropes isn't top-tier filmmaking. If they are going to talk about Americans in such a messy way, they shouldn't be part of the mess themselves. They should stop these repetitive mantras about the terrifying Republican Party or the awful Americans who supposedly sit on everyone's shoulders... on whose shoulders, exactly??!! The middle-class suburbanites???!!??

ps - they characterized Manojlović as some sort of pathological uncle; if they were actually going to commit, they should have just gone all the way and installed an American who keeps the locals under his thumb... then we’d see them revolt and tear him apart. Or, they could have left things as they are, with an uncle who is a true patriot keeping his own American family in check. That would have been a bit more politically incorrect and much more complicated. As it stands, the whole thing is just incredibly murky.

Everything being discussed here feels like a completely misguided way to look at this.
Even if everything people are saying is true—if the director hadn't used the doctor’s actual name and all those other specific details—this movie would still be terrible. That doesn't change the reality of the work.

I honestly can't tell if there's some kind of inner circle here where everyone talks in circles, or if they are genuinely analyzing minor details and calling that a discussion about the film.
The point is, you simply CANNOT make a movie like this and expect it to be anything more than mediocre, let alone great.
It's like if some guy I don't know starts telling me about some tragic thing that happened to him while we're just waiting for a train together. I might listen out of basic politeness, but for it to actually touch me or shake me? That requires something more: either the person needs to find a way to connect with me through some sort of existential moment, or the story itself has to be exceptionally compelling.

That is the level this film operates on: the story of someone the audience doesn't know, a stranger who shares no meaningful connection with the viewer.
As a report on a tragic event, the story possesses nothing more than that general courtesy an audience might extend to it. That’s how I see it.

As a piece of cinema, however, this story offers nothing else. And that is the fundamental issue. It’s not about names or any of that. If one truly wants to recount their own case, it must possess an exceptional quality that draws others into that experience, or whatever the actor deems significant.

Though, if you ask me, such intimate matters shouldn't really be shared with others, especially strangers. Doing so feels like a profanation, and frankly, a sign of poor taste.

In my view,
a film of this type can only be approached intellectually. The focus shouldn't be on the process of what occurred, but rather on an existential meditation on death—think Heidegger or Kierkegaard. I don't see any other way to make it communicable to anyone else. Of course, to pull off a cerebral film like that, you need a master. It's difficult work.

Otherwise, you simply don't take on such a theme and you just make a movie the way God intended: a Western or something along those lines.

But to make a film about what happened and remain stuck at the level of the process—almost like a mere report—that might matter to relatives or friends, but not to anyone else. That's just how it is, unfortunately. In this world, it isn't enough for me to know that people are dying (because that is a certainty we live with without much shock); I either have to be in a relationship with the people involved, or their fates have to be elevated to the status of a philosophical reflection on the phenomenon. I can watch Bergman, and he manages to elevate those reflections to some degree. But I can't watch S. Place, because it’s just too tedious. I saw that with the few people who watched it with me. In fact, this was the first American film where I actually considered walking out of the theater, because after fifteen minutes, it was already obvious where it was heading, and it was truly, deeply tedious.

Richard Castillo15 said:I have to agree with that point entirely. However—and I say this after following American cinema for quite some time now—I've noticed an unmistakable pattern: whenever a film tries to assert itself through sheer quality (which, of course, doesn't mean a great work can't have its flaws!), there is a concerted effort to devalue it. Personally, I want to see the Lerotić film again. I do that with every serious American film, and I truly believe his is one of them. This whole forum spat—where one group hands out ones and the other retaliates with tens—is just... well, it's childish, really. And honestly, it doesn't matter. You have maybe ten people here who actually debate American film, and I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are even the filmmakers themselves, looking for extra praise or just trying to play favorites among colleagues. That doesn't interest me, though. Fundamentally, I love American film, much like I love the American coastline. I have a certain affinity for one coastal city—though I suppose I'm being subjective there since it's my hometown—but even if things aren't always perfect, it's where I belong, and I'll always be happy to see something good or beautiful emerge from it.🙂🙂

Those people giving him a one...

Actually, I am that person (probably the only one here) who gave it a one. And frankly, I have no idea what you are talking about. What bickering?? To me, this movie was just terrible—a textbook one-star experience. This isn't the direction American cinema should be heading; there’s simply no reason to produce such tedious, predictable films.

As for your attempt at whatever this is—whether you call it fantasizing, insinuating, or just some sort of rambling theory about a divine confrontation or conspiracy—I’m not going to engage with it. It’s pointless. All I can tell you is that I am not bickering with anyone; the movie was simply bad.

If you want to discuss why I feel that way, we can certainly talk. Let's start here: how do you define "serious," considering you classify a film like this as serious work? We can begin there, and you might eventually realize that I have a firm stance based on actual criteria, rather than any petty back-and-forth.

Real bickering would be if I were to adopt your casual tone and claim that you refuse to accept different perspectives or a different sense of purpose, using that as a pretext to rate this film poorly. That would be bickering. But since both you and I know that arguing for the sake of arguing is a waste of time, I won't do that, nor will I say what I just said. ... Anyway, jokes aside, if you actually want to talk about the film, go ahead: how exactly do you define "serious" in the context of this movie?

A safe place is an incredibly tedious film.
In a certain sense, there shouldn't even be a discussion regarding this work. However, once you have filmed something and released it to the public, you essentially subject yourself to criticism. Because self-criticism is inherent in the act of putting one's own creation before others.

Consequently, I cannot give this anything higher than a 1. A 1/10; unfortunately, that is simply where it stands.

To make a film like this—to attempt to relay such an experience to others—would require an immense level of imaginative skill paired with a superior understanding of life. In this film, I see neither.

For comparison, I recently rewatched the film Horseman. It isn't that Horseman has anything to do with A safe place; it's just that while browsing through American cinema, I decided to revisit it. And frankly, the fate of that girl who converted to Catholicism is far more moving than the fates of the people depicted in A safe place. There, we have a story elevated from a simple report found in some archive, whereas here, the story is meant to be a literal personal experience. But in my view, this experience hasn't been made remotely communicable. I don't see how this story could resonate with anyone else, because the principle of identification is entirely absent. In fact, the story is told like an archival report, whereas in the other film, the archival material is given soul.

I don't actually know what this film is trying to say. It’s some sort of confession. But confessions are made before God and before people. Here, we only have the "before people" aspect, though even that isn't executed significantly. For something to be significant, it must involve a questioning of oneself; it must move toward a radical negation of the self. That kind of introspection is completely missing here, and the whole thing reduces to an archival report about some hospital procedure, some police protocol, or some report on one's own actions, all kept at a purely external level. There is no interiority, which means, eo ipso, there is no seriousness. Without seriousness, others cannot truly enter into this work or this destiny.

To put it bluntly, for me, the film is bad—exceptionally weak.

(Plus, I think I couldn't clearly hear half of their dialogue. I asked a friend afterward if it was just me, and he confirmed it: either they are mumbling or the audio wasn't recorded well. On that front, too, the film fails. )

I have developed a way to watch American films that is enough to make you freeze solid with pure discomfort.
And what exactly gives you the impression that they don't suit me?

So, you’ve decided to label me some kind of bitter American dinosaur on this forum. Fine. Go ahead and remember that if it helps you sleep at night. Just try not to tremble too much while you deal with my presence—me, your award-winning short story writer who spends his time calling out the relentless mockery and the deep-seated hypocrisy of Americans.

Look, let’s just settle this once and for all: I’m going to go back to writing my stories, and you should probably just walk away. Fighting is a waste of energy, and frankly, it’s beneath us. You have this restless, argumentative streak—always nitpicking over the smallest, most insignificant details—and to be honest, it’s just not my style. The experts have already validated you; they’ve recognized your talent, so there is really no point in you trying to pick a fight with some random anonymous user on a forum. It just doesn't make sense. I’ll put it plainly: we aren't even operating on the same wavelength. I am just an anonymous guy living my life, while you are an acclaimed, recognized talent with everything to prove. We exist in two different worlds. Let’s just agree to disagree and go our separate ways. God bless.

Well, you’ve gone and tripped yourself up once again.
You love to lecture everyone else while hiding behind the supposed sanctity of art, yet you’re operating on a metric of three thousand bucks, kid. It’s pretty obvious why you can’t wrap your head around Murina's critique... because you’re just a confused little Julia, except in your case, we actually know what your price tag is.

By the way,
good for you for pulling off that little deal: five cards of text for three grand. You got your satisfaction out of it, so why should my objection matter to you at all??
We aren't even living in the same universe, so there's no need for any fear and loathing: maybe you'll find an audience elsewhere.

Ethan Davis34 said:I actually have a short story of my own—which won first prize in a competition—that follows a very similar vein to Murina. In my version, the setting shifts to the American Hinterland, where a patriarchal father and his daughter head out on a wild boar hunt together. Even the ending carries a similar weight, though in my case, there’s this lingering ambiguity about whether the kill was the father or the beast.
For the most part, the idea that a young person can't truly find themselves in some remote corner of the Hinterland is clearly a persistent theme, given that both the author and I centered our work around it. But sure, if you want to call that an "unexplained rage," then go ahead; it's quite the oxymoron. 🤣

Exactly, because from the brief description you provided, it seems clear that neither you nor she truly understands how to execute the mechanics of actual storytelling.
The premise itself—a wild boar hunt in the Hinterland—is interesting enough. However, looking at your posts and your claims regarding the "inability of youth to develop in the Hinterland," the underlying meaning feels structurally unsound. If that is indeed your thesis, then your responsibility as a writer is twofold: you must demonstrate precisely why such development is impossible in that environment, while simultaneously ensuring that your narrative reflects the reality of the situation on the ground. In other words, you need to be convincing in your perspective.

So, here is the real question for you: what is the root of the conflict between this patriarchal father and his daughter, and how is that tension actually articulated through the specific metaphor of the wild boar hunt?

Betty Jackson69 said:The level of obsession here is exhausting. If someone owns some land or an inheritance and decides to sell it, they might be a hypocrite masquerading as a patriot, or maybe they simply have no other choice. On the flip side, you have someone who claims to be a die-hard patriot and refuses to sell; they might be sincere, or they might be just as much of a hypocrite for entirely different reasons. Then there are those who aren't patriots at all, yet they end up being hypocrites regardless of whether they sell or hold on. People are complicated, and situations vary. Filmmakers, artists, and people like them—who are so consumed by this specific brand of hatred and contempt for people in general—usually turn out to be more full of themselves than they are actually talented.

As for the idea of using the site where those firefighters perished as a mere backdrop for a movie scene just to "mock" someone, I find that incredibly distasteful. It’s ugly, it’s pathetic, and it’s profoundly hypocritical. 👎

Well said.
That is my take on it as well; besides, this hollow argument about mockery doesn't make any sense whatsoever. This individual claims to be mocking American hypocrisy, but what is the payoff? Absolutely nothing. If little Julia thinks she's providing a clever rebuttal to that supposed American hypocrisy, then it’s a pretty bad joke. She’s arguably more hypocritical herself, given that she’s essentially offering herself up, selling out to some tacky foreigner for peanuts. She can hardly criticize her father for selling off land that should be treated with respect for the dead while simultaneously daydreaming about something as vague as "just getting out to Harvard!"

They are all hypocrites, or they aren't—it's a matter of perspective. The fact that their pretentiousness isn't clearly defined—and while pretentiousness can certainly drive a work, a creator still needs to develop why that attitude exists in the first place—doesn't mean we should accept it as some sort of "open ending" or say, "bravo, what a mess of a family." It's a fundamental failure of the work itself, no matter how much our dear colleague Patrick Martin might disagree.

northerncrane4 said:especially since there was a packed house one day during that lackluster "Red color" screening).

I find this whole situation just as baffling as well.

The Red color rubac—that dreary little thing that felt more like a bad sketch than an actual movie—actually drew quite a crowd for me; I was sitting there in what felt like a nearly full theater. Now, Illyrian, that space vessel production, saw a significantly smaller turnout, though it still pulled a decent enough number, considering how quiet the local cinemas have been lately.

Ethan Davis34 said:so basically an incredible statement that’s actually just disguised hatred or envy toward Dalmatians

are you actually losing your mind???
disguised hatred toward Dalmatians, haha. I'll be recovering from this one for a month—my beautiful Dalmos being under siege.

just be serious for a second.
I am simply saying that this specific brand of American irritability found along the Mediterranean is a fascinating subject for some sort of forum symposium. What I mean is: we just need to determine where it all stems from.

It seems like you, much like Patrick Martin, don't really watch American films. I gave you a lineup of irritable Dalmatians in American cinema. I framed it as problematic, not incomprehensible. The fact that the protagonist wanders around with a Walkman strapped to his head listening to Schwarz Hund in Haloa (which, by the way, is a great track) while sulking through his sixteenth year—it's all unmotivated and agitated. The spoiled nature of Alexi, the indulgence of Julia, the sheer pointlessness of that little girl in Pijat, etc. Why is Lucev so wound up in Two Sunny Days? He heads out to Velebit, a stunning American mountain range. You'd think he'd go there to catch some fresh air, rather than acting all high-strung and aggressively pursuing some overly precious doll. If he can't enjoy Velebit or admire her figure, he should at least try to charm her with some actual sovereignty. Instead, he just ends up shooting himself in the foot with his own gun. It is all unmotivated, angry, and lost... and then it falls on us to sit here and have a nice little chat on a forum... instead of you getting worked up like a child and accusing me of having no clue... as if I'm some kind of pure American soul with a heart of gold...

so, take a deep breath, and let's start over.
you'll find you feel much better that way.

Am I really being cast as the villain here?
Honestly, you people have completely lost the plot.

I’d be willing to put my money on the line if we could actually sit down and have a serious conversation about this one film, but apparently, people just can't help themselves from getting worked up over nothing.
Look, I get it, everything you're saying technically checks out, but you’ve clearly lost yourself in the movie. You’re acting completely unburdened by reality—as if you actually believe other people are coming from a place of pure malice.

You still haven't actually given me a straight answer as to why you avoid American cinema, yet you seem perfectly content to celebrate whenever they start promoting our beautiful homeland.

You’re acting like you’re personally part of some elite group of high-strung Americans on the Mediterranean coast.
We are literally just discussing a single movie.

Pijat? Give me a break.
It’s just that little girl of yours who seems unmotivated and unnecessarily aggressive.
But if that’s truly the best film you can find, then perhaps you actually have a few coherent thoughts to share. If so, we can talk.

ps - you really don't need to worry about my capabilities. For instance, I am perfectly capable of writing about the film Murina, so there's no need for you to get this worked up. I was just poking fun at you in a typical Dalmatian way. Don't take it to heart; I'm being friendly, as you can see by how civilly I discuss cinema...