Nezavisni filmski centar "Filmart"

Marko and Ankica never got over the death of their only child, Ante, in the war. When their neighbour Stipe suggests renting their son’s room to tourists, Marko feels insulted but Ankica manages to talk him into it. Renting rooms is easy money, especially for retired people, but having an unknown man sleeping in his son’s bed troubles Marko.

A poetic and metaphysical view on a daily life routine in a distant nursing home, on a top of the mountain in Uzice, Serbia – the closest place to heaven. This is the last station on earth for old people that called “clients”. While they’re waiting for the end of their lives, prisoned in a desolate nursing home and their old-dying body, they are fighting for the freedom of their soul, the only place they can feel young and alive. A fight between light and darkness, suffering and acceptance, life and death.

Urbanization and shifting regimes erased WWII mass graves from Serbian city centers. Brutalist architect Bogdan Bogdanović designed a monumental memorial outside Čačak, both a tribute to the victims and a testament to his architectural vision. Now largely neglected and overgrown, the memorial is brought to life through the voices of locals, archival materials, and reenactments. The film explores how memory, history, and architecture intersect, gradually revealing the human stories behind the monument’s silence.

Documentary about Serbian rapper Danijel Mitrović aka Deniro.

The Same is a film that shows the everyday life of convicts and jailers in some of the biggest jails in Serbia by using it as a metaphor to present the loss of personal identity in modern society. This documentary compares a jail system to fixed social rules and raises questions about the relativity of human freedom.

There are many reasons for joy in the Pecenkovic family who live in a village of Preljina, near Cacak. The energy provided by their two sets of twins helps them through their lives. The grownups enjoy their time with the children whose pranks and adventures leave no room for monotony. Children bring love; they are the adornment of the world.

The movie depicts a Serbian choir, The Singing Women of Pozega, a group of enthusiastic elderly women full of life who share their daily routine with us. Through poetic pictures, seasoned with a lot of humour, we learn about their views on love, joy as well as the ephemerality of life.

Dragica does not lack for work. The house and cattle in western Serbia demand toil from dawn to dusk. She milks, harvests, prepares porridge for her handicapped daughter. Her own mother recently passed away. Now Dragica wears black and shaves her old father. Can there be an alternative to this daily self-sacrifice? Almost casually, Isaac Knights-Washbourn leaves space for such reflections: While chopping tomatoes, the woman opens up to a guest from town.

After 10 years of being in a passive, a painter Darko Babic accepted an invitation to exhibit his works in an art gallery in his own town. It marked the beginning of a 10-month long period of preparing the exhibition, a period of self-struggle with his own established habits and personal boundaries. By accepting the invitation, the artist also ran the risk of leaving the gallery walls bare.

What does freedom mean? And in some cases, could it be better to be locked up, with a roof over your head and food to eat, even if you have to work for it? Dejan Petrović poses these questions indirectly in his distinctively framed impressions of an overcrowded dog shelter in Serbia, where the dogs are kept behind wire mesh in dismal pens.