Navigacija

Objave

Kosara Mitić: I Was Never Interested in Shocking the Audience or Exploiting Trauma

Inspired by a true event that shook the region, 17 tells the story of Sara, her trauma, and the strength she has to find to cope with the aftermath. The film will be screened at Competition Programme – Narrative Feature Film of 32nd Sarajevo Film Festival.

A year after 17 received an award at CineLink’s Work in Progress programme, director Kosara Mitić returns to Sarajevo with the completed film. 17 follows Sara, a withdrawn seventeen-year-old who must keep a major secret from her entire class during a graduation trip. When the trip spirals out of control, an unexpected friendship begins to form between her and one of her classmates. A it turns out, that bond will mark them both forever. Inspired by a true event that shook the region, Kosara Mitić’s feature debut is an intimate story about trauma, silence, isolation, and female solidarity. Rather than approaching the story sensationalistically or using it to shock the audience, the director offers a film that treats survivors of violence with care, focusing on the consequences they are forced to live with and the ways in which they try to overcome them.

17 was presented and awarded at CineLink Work in Progress during the last year’s Sarajevo Film Festival. What did that award mean to you, and how is it to return a year later with the finished film?

CineLink Work in Progress was one of the first moments when 17 truly stepped out into the world and met people beyond our own team. Receiving the award was not only a recognition of the film, but also very important emotional support at a fragile stage of the process. When you are making a first feature, there are many moments of doubt and uncertainty, and having the trust of a place like Sarajevo gave us the strength to continue protecting the heart of the story. More importantly, it introduced 17 to festival programmers, distributors, and industry professionals who became part of its journey from that point on. Coming back to Sarajevo a year later with the finished film feels very emotional. In a way it feels like completing a circle. Sarajevo was there when 17 was still a dream, so it's very meaningful to be back and to finally share the film with the people who believed in it from such an early stage.

Seeing how this film is your debut feature, what were the biggest challenges in moving from short films to a feature-length production, and what surprised you the most about the process?

Moving from short films to a feature was a huge step, not only because of the scale, but because of the emotional responsibility that comes with telling a longer story. With a short film, you can explore a single moment or a specific feeling, but a feature asks you to stay with the characters for a much longer journey and to understand all the invisible layers behind their actions. The biggest challenge was maintaining the emotional intensity of Sara’s story while creating space for the whole world around her — the group of teenagers, their relationships, the atmosphere of the trip, and the silence surrounding what happens to her. It was also a challenge to work with a young ensemble and guide them through very demanding material while protecting their trust and vulnerability. What surprised me the most was how much the film taught me during the process. I started with a very clear idea of what I wanted to explore, but the actors, especially Eva, the locations, and the rhythm of the shoot revealed new dimensions of the story. I realized that making a feature is not about controlling every detail, but about creating the right conditions for something truthful to emerge. That discovery was one of the most beautiful and humbling parts of making 17. I was moved by how deeply the cast and crew connected with the story and brought their own experiences and sensitivity to the film. Making a feature film is not only having a strong vision as a director, but also about creating a space where that vision can be shared and transformed by others.

In 2016, there was a widely reported case involving a Macedonian student and a disturbing incident during a graduation trip. Some elements of that story parallel what Sara, the protagonist of 17, goes through. Were you aware of the case, and did it influence the film in any way? How do you approach such sensitive themes without turning them into sensationalism?

The impulse to make this film came from that real event. What was the most interesting to me was that no one new that the girl was pregnant. That fact disturbed me more than the act itself, it revealed not an individual failure, but a collective one. When dealing with such sensitive themes, I felt it was essential to avoid sensationalism. I was never interested in shocking the audience or exploiting trauma. Instead, I wanted to stay close to Sara's emotional experience; to explore silence, isolation, shame, and the way society often fails young women in vulnerable situations. My hope was to create space for empathy and reflection, rather than judgment or spectacle.

Sara is quiet and withdrawn for the most of the film, but Eva Kostić gives her an incredibly strong presence. How did the two of you develop the character’s inner life, and what was most important to you when working on really hard scenes that portray moments of pain and trauma?

Eva understood from the very beginning that this character couldn't be approached through psychology alone. Sara is someone who has learned to survive by becoming almost invisible. Her silence isn't emptiness – it's a language of its own. We spent a lot of time talking not only about what Sara was feeling, but also about everything she was unable to express. We built her inner life through small details, memories, physical sensations and the weight she carries in her body, rather than through dialogue. For the difficult scenes, it was essential that they never become performances of suffering. I didn't want to aestheticize trauma or ask the actress to "show pain." Instead, I focused on protecting Eva while creating an environment of complete trust. Every scene was carefully prepared, discussed in advance, and filmed with great sensitivity. What mattered most to me was honesty. Trauma often looks quiet. It can exist in a frozen body, in a delayed reaction, in the inability to speak. I wanted the audience to feel Sara's emotional reality rather than simply witness her suffering. Eva brought an extraordinary emotional precision to the role. She trusted silence, and that courage allowed Sara to become a character whose inner world is deeply felt, even when she says almost nothing.

Girlhood is often shaped by moments of intense female friendship, but those relationships can also be fragile and complicated. What interested you the most when portraying the friendship between Sara and Lina

Sara and Lina don't know each other very well, yet they gradually build a connection through small gestures rather than conversations. For me, that kind of solidarity is very powerful – it doesn't come from having all the answers, but simply from choosing to stay with someone when they are at their most vulnerable. Their relationship is also intentionally imperfect. Lina can't fully understand what Sara is going through, and Sara isn't able to let anyone completely in. But even within those limitations, Lina offers Sara something she has been missing throughout the film – the possibility of being seen without being judged. I think girlhood is often defined by these intense, fleeting relationships. They can be fragile, but they can also become lifelines. With Sara and Lina, I wanted to explore how empathy can emerge between two young women who are both navigating their own uncertainties. In a film that deals with silence and isolation, their friendship becomes a quiet act of resistance and reminds us that even the smallest gesture of care can change the course of someone's story.

The film centers a senior high school trip. How did you approach casting the young ensemble of actors, and what were the main challenges of working with them on such emotionally demanding material?

Casting the young ensemble was a very delicate and important process, because the whole film depends on the feeling that these are real young people who have known each other for years. I wasn’t searching only for actors who could perform the roles, but for a group chemistry – for the small gestures, tensions, friendships, and silences that exist between teenagers. With Eva and the rest of the young cast, we spent time building trust before we started shooting. Because the material is emotionally heavy, especially for such young actors, my first responsibility was to create a safe environment where they could explore these characters without feeling exposed or pressured. We always approached the difficult scenes through the characters emotions and experiences, never through the intensity of the event itself. The biggest challenge was protecting their vulnerability while also asking them to go to very deep places as performers. But what surprised me was their maturity and sensitivity. They brought so much honesty and intuition to the film, and a lot of the moments that feel most real came from their own understanding of these characters.

The background noise often feels overwhelming, placing the audience inside the chaos of the trip. How did you use sound and atmosphere to express Sara’s isolation within the group?

Sound was one of the most important storytelling tools in 17. From the beginning, we wanted the audience to experience the world as Sara does. The noise of the bus, music, conversations, laughter, and constant movement create an overwhelming environment where everyone seems connected, yet Sara becomes increasingly isolated. Rather than using silence to express loneliness, we chose the opposite approach. The world around her is loud and alive, but she is emotionally disconnected from it. That contrast became essential to expressing her inner state. Often, we hear the group before we really see it, while Sara remains emotionally distant, almost swallowed by the atmosphere surrounding her. We worked closely on the sound design to make it feel immersive without becoming manipulative. Every layer of sound was there to support Sara's subjective experience rather than simply recreate reality. My hope was that the audience wouldn't just observe her isolation – they would feel it from within.

The film includes scenes of sexual violence. What responsibilities did you feel as a filmmaker when deciding how to portray those moments? Do you think it’s possible to depict sexual violence without it being exploitative? 

This was probably the responsibility I felt most strongly throughout the entire process. From the very beginning, I knew that if these scenes were included, they had to exist for the emotional truth of the story – not to shock, provoke, or satisfy curiosity. The question was never how to make the violence more dramatic, but how to portray its impact on the person who experiences it. I do believe it is possible to depict sexual violence without being exploitative, but it requires constant awareness of perspective. The camera should never become voyeuristic. It should remain with the survivor, focusing on her emotional experience rather than the act itself. That approach guided every creative decision we made, from the framing and performances to the editing and sound design. It was equally important to create a safe environment during production. We worked with great care and open communication so that everyone involved understood the purpose of these scenes and felt protected throughout the process. Ultimately, 17 is not a film about violence itself. It is about what follows – the silence, the isolation, the guilt, and the resilience of a young girl trying to find her way back to herself.

 
YOU DON'T BELONG HERE Regional Premiere
SKATEBOARDING IS NOT FOR GIRLS European Premiere Took Place
Florin Șerban: The Story Comes First, Style Follows
Florin Şerban: The Drama Has to Be Unaware of You, And You Need to Forget You Are in the Seat
Regional Premiere of the Film SUPPORTING ROLE