A Serbian Film (2010)

(CW: This post contains graphic descriptions of sexual violence) Remember this one? For about six months, every paper in the English-speaking world seemed to run at least one story a week about Srdan Spasojevic’s A Serbian Film, and most of those pieces amounted to little more than a list of fucked-up things that happen in the film. The journalists writing about it seemed to fall into two camps: the larger of the two was made up of those who thought the film was a puerile attempt to shock; the smaller of those who thought that, as the director claimed, there was some deeper meaning behind all the eyefucking and baby rape. It’s supposed to be a metaphor for the Balkan conflict, or something. Regardless of their stance on the film’s artistic merit, everyone at the time agreed that this was one of the most disturbing films ever made, and that even the censored edition made available for distribution in the UK was not for the faint of heart. 

    It’s easy to see why. A Serbian Film contains acts of depravity rarely if ever depicted on screen before, including (but not limited to) the rape of a newborn, a man being fucked to death through his eye socket, and the main character inadvertently raping his wife and son. Strong stuff indeed, and I’m sure you’re waiting for a post about how daring and provocative A Serbian Film  is - you know the type of thing, full of references to Salo and A Clockwork Orange, an essay that is more about how many classic films the author has seen, and how much theory they can cram into a few hundred words, than the quality of the film being discussed. It’d end with some spiel about how one of the most important functions of art is to break societal taboos, and any work that pushes the limits of acceptable filmmaking to such an extent deserves some respect. Well, that’s not happening.   

    The thing is, you see, that A Serbian Film isn’t particularly disturbing - what it is, is alternately boring and funny. Most of the film is a slog through mediocre dialogue and barely-average cinematography, to get to some act of sexual violence that apparently is supposed to shock me, but in reality comes across like a teenager’s attempt at being “dark” and “edgy”. When something does break the monotony, it’s a scene so ridiculous that it crosses the line into comedy (such as the aforementioned eyefucking). I can forgive almost anything in a film, except being boring - it’s the ultimate sin, because any other flaw in a film can be so bad that it’s funny, and thus add to the entertainment, whereas being dull by definition can’t do that. Honestly, I would have turned A Serbian Film off after thirty minutes or so if I hadn’t been reviewing it for a website. Incidentally, since I haven’t done a plot synopsis for this one yet, I’ll copy and paste it here from that review:

The plot, at least, is fairly simple: Milos, a retired porn star, decides to take one last high-paying job for Vukmir, a wealthy fan who refuses to tell him what the film will be about. It turns out he wants Milos to get drugged up and rape/kill some people. Eventually, after a long and increasingly stupid sequence of sexual atrocities, Milos is made to rape two people whose identities are hidden by bags over their heads. During the act, a masked man joins in.

The masked man is revealed to be Milos’ brother, and the disguised victims are Milos’ wife and young son. Then there’s some revenge, including the much-talked-about scene of Milos raping a man to death through his eye socket, and the family decide to kill themselves. Oh, I almost forgot – a film crew shows up after the suicides and it’s implied that one of them is going to rape the bodies. I guess Spasojevic decided that the one thing missing from the film was necrophilia.

I try to find at least one good thing to say about any film, and there is actually a scene in A Serbian Film that I found quite affecting. It’s after Milos rapes his family, when they’re sitting at the dinner table together, staring into space with these vacant expressions, like they’re not really there at all. It’s a rather harrowing portrayal of trauma, and it made it almost worth watching the ninety-odd minutes of nonsense that preceded it.

What I want to get across here is that A Serbian Film is only remembered as being disturbing because of the reactions of a few humourless critics, and the hysteria whipped up to sell papers. In reality, it’s a boring mess, without even shock value to recommend it.