Šavovi (Stitches)
CERCAMONFrom the outset, Stitches – a new film by Serbian director, Miroslav Terzić – creates a disconcerting atmosphere. The camera lingers, documenting an extended period of quietness. Even when we finally get our first glimpse of human life, nothing is said. It turns out this is merely a normal day for Ana (Snežana Bogdanović), an introverted seamstress who is downtrodden to the point she is practically rendered invisible. Ana’s husband, Jovan (Marko Baćović), barely says a word to her, whilst her daughter Ivana (Jovana Stojiljković) can’t even manage that, opting to ignore her at every opportunity.
Over the course of an eerie first act, we see Ana quietly shuffle between her lonely workspace and empty streets, before her plight is gradually revealed. She is haunted by the loss of her baby boy from 18 years ago. Incomplete hospital records, the unknown burial site and a mysterious doctor has kept her pursuing answers for all these years. Though it takes too much time for the film to get to this point, the structure cleverly contextualizes previous images, showing characters in a new light and unveiling the causes of the family’s dysfunctionality.
Based on numerous cases in Serbia, the film opts to commit to Ana rather than providing an overview of wider society, a decision bolstered by Bogdanović’s nuanced performance. On the surface, it looks almost emotionless, but behind every glance and gesture is a palpable sense of anguish and hurt. Ana, for the most part, looks utterly beaten by the tragedy but occasionally shows the slightest flicker of hope. When Jovan and Ivana become more integral to proceedings, we begin to empathise and understand their angles, showing that grief comes in many forms.
Unfortunately, the emphasis on character leads to logical gaps in the case. Given how basic the investigatory techniques are, one wonders why it took so long for the case to gain some traction. It creates a clash between the real-life events and the plot of the film which is unfortunately never corrected. Though the decision to focus on Ana is admirable, the film would benefit from a wider scope which would add balance and alleviate some of the pacing issues in the middle act.
To the credit of screenwriter, Elma Tataragić’s, the final passages are handled deftly, shying away from melodrama and maintaining consistency with the tone throughout the rest of the film. Much of the power derives from what isn’t said rather than what is. Similarly, Terzić doesn’t embellish the screen, choosing instead to use framing as a way to delineate Ana’s loneliness, often positioning her behind windows and fences. Thematically, all the ingredients are here for a truly impactful tale, but some unfocused writing and pacing issues means the film doesn’t quite fulfil its potential. The numerous scenes, in which we see Ana working, serve as a fitting summation of the film as a whole. Much like her dresses and her life, Stitches needs some extra care.