Biljana Tutorov and Petar Glomazić: No Directing of Reality or Instigation of Events Was Ethically Acceptable for Us

This is a film with two stories, and both are equally important. One follows NATO’s attempt to appropriate the Montenegrin mountain of Sinjajevina, the area protected by UNESCO, for use as a military training ground, and the resistance of the local community against those plans. The other story, which gradually unfolds through sparse conversations and occasional monologues by the main characters, deals with family issues that has marked the lives of three generations of women. The film is also about the relationship between ordinary people and the vast landscape that sustains them, about the deep bond between people and their animals, and about tenderness, love, selflessness, and kindness.

 

Petar Glomazić: My attachment to the mountains and the katun way of life stems from my childhood and my connection with my aunts, uncles and cousins who lived there. My parents were born and spent their childhood in the countryside, only later moving to the city for schooling. These rural childhood memories of mine have made me a passionate mountaineer who has tirelessly returned to these fairy-tale spaces throughout my life, photographing them, absorbing and recording the stories of the people who survive there. When in 2017 there was a threat that this untouched natural temple and ancient pasture would be turned into a military training ground, I was overcome by a deep inner unrest, a feeling that we must preserve it or at least record this world before oblivion covers its traces. We soon found ourselves in the same trench with the locals in the fight to protect the mountain and their way of life. From that common concern and struggle for the common good, activism without any reservations or calculations, a deep human trust was born with Gara and her family, but also with the entire herding community on the mountain. Instead of a fleeting film crew, we became part of that community, and as Gara and her husband Marjan like to say, we became their extended family.

 

Biljana Tuturov: Unlike Petar, I'm afraid of heights, although I love mountains, and he took me to Sinjajevina precisely because there is no abyss there. Sinjajevina is like a gently undulating sea at 2000 meters above sea level. Its metaphysical landscapes moved me greatly from that first visit. The coloristic impression is unique, it seems to me that the colours are different there and that they are arranged in a unique palette of dark pink, deep green, gold and greyish blue shades. I immediately wanted to make a film. That was much earlier. When we returned to support the local community in the fight against the military training ground, we met Gara and Nada and started working together for the sake of the mountain and on the film. They appeared in the landscape so strong, yet sensitive, interesting. We were not informed about their whole story from the beginning, it was not the trigger of our interest, but as it happens in stories that are "larger than life", as the English say, their drama became a template for a film that summarizes much more than the fate of one family and one mountain. We met in the desire to defend the mountain, but also to make a film about their life journey.

 

 

Biljana Tuturov: Gara needed to talk about her life, and she clearly told us and showed it. We learned a lot from her. Her "way" of communication is stylized, she speaks essentially, she is very witty, concise and picturesque in her expression. We were particularly interested in the moment of intersection between the political and the intimate, because Gara carries both dramaturgical lines in life and in the film. We felt the depth of their fate, and that it makes sense to find a way to present it respectfully in the film. Apart from the fact that it has a natural dramatic charge, it is reflected in the landscape, and we found the intriguing resonance of two stories, two consequences of patriarchy. We were interested in how to transpose that zero state of emotion, that is, tell without adding so that everyone feels the depth that we have come to know.

 

Petar Glomazić: We were also drawn to that amazing, steadfast strength and touching tenderness that survive in the midst of a very harsh environment. We wanted to talk about the female principle through the film, about that silent but supporting structure of our society. Our history is full of epic narratives about warriors and heroes, while women throughout the ages remained relegated to the deep shadows, reduced to nameless mothers who give birth to these heroes. And in fact, they were and remain the true, invisible heroes of survival. Their deep connection with animals and the space that feeds us reveals a forgotten purity and dignity of existence. Opening that hidden, intimate world and offering it to the viewer as a mirror of our own humanity was our greatest creative and emotional need.

 

Both narrative threads unfold at a slow pace, and at first glance it may seem that very little happens. Yet the film’s beauty, both visual and emotional, quietly finds its way under the viewer’s skin. It is only after the film ends that its personal and political dimensions, woven together with remarkable subtlety, truly fall into place. Observation was clearly your primary filmmaking approach. How much did you intervene during filming by encouraging or shaping events to meet the dramatic needs of the story?

 

Biljana Tuturov: We did not intervene. We decided to explore with the camera for a long time - spaces, lights, gestures, until enough dramatic tissue was deposited. We studied the landscape, faces, movements, began to understand Gara’s and Nada’s relationship, the "missing" characters. We wrote the film over time, slowly understanding the deeper layers and looking for a way to feel them without artificial construction. When you look more closely, you realize that it was not even possible to intervene when it comes to the scenes that carry the film. They happened, and we understood them after many years of living together, when we already had the stage, the atmosphere and the language of the film. Working on this film and with the female protagonists rests on our moral engagement, which always guided us through the process and was the first and last criterion. We wanted both the film and the process to be an empowering experience for Nada, and a tribute to her mother and sister for Gara.

 

Petar Glomazić: No directing of reality or instigation of events for the purposes of the camera was ethically acceptable for us. Perhaps we can talk about an intervention in the editing process — in the purification of the material, and the search for those condensed moments in which the daily work and the courage of our heroines rise to the strength and dignity of ancient drama. However, even in that process we were careful to stay true to the authentic material.

 

Gara’s devotion to her family and homeland, and her constant struggle, sometimes fought tooth and nail, sometimes simply through endurance and perseverance, make her a character audiences can relate to regardless of their background. Is that universal quality the secret behind To Hold a Mountain’s successful festival journey?

 

Petar Glomazić: I think the secret is that the film does not deal with superficial political clichés or local exoticism but touches the very core of the human fate. When you scratch beneath cultural and geographic differences, we all carry the same wounds, the same fears, and the same need for love, belonging, and justice. In the time we live in, where the media bombards us with aggressive, noisy and short-term stimuli that dehumanize, To Hold a Mountain offers a completely different experience. It gives the viewer precious space and peace to stop, to feel, breathe and empathize. When you approach the story uncompromisingly, with a pure heart and devotion to the truth, that sincere emotion finds its way to viewers on all meridians.

 

Biljana Tuturov: I'm still surprised every time and I don't know what the secret is. I'm afraid that I think a lot about it so that I don't fall into an attempt to repeat something similar in the next film. To Hold a Mountain is exactly the kind of movie we wanted, that makes me happy. I like to believe that if we as directors make ourselves happy and go to the end of the project we are dedicated to, others will feel it too. The two of us enjoyed the process and collaborating, even though it was very exhausting - both mentally and physically - to shoot for seven years. Of course, in addition to the incredible protagonists, the film incorporates the talent of a fantastic team of authors, first of all our director of photography Eva Kraljević, editor George Cragg, additional editor Catherine Rascon, composer Draško Adžić, cellists brought together by maestro Aleksandar Latković – the first cello of the Belgrade Philharmonic, and finally sound designers Julij Zornik and Samo Jurca, as well as colourist Emil Svetlik. Apart from them, there are also numerous colleagues with whom we talked a lot, consulted, who watched the editing versions and cheered us on. We are very grateful for this experience - the film is a trace of everything we have experienced during the last seven years.