Tamo i Ovde (Here and There) is a Serbian-German-American collaboration and a quiet masterpiece by director Darko Lungulov. It stars David Thornton and Mirjana Karanovic in the lead roles and also features a slightly baffling cameo appearance by Cyndi Lauper.
The film has been described as a ‘dead-pan romantic comedy,’ which certainly fits the bill, but aside from its frequent comic moments it should also be appreciated for its layers, the subtle expression of big emotion, and its astute spotlighting of two opposing cities.
Plot-wise: Robert is a down-and-out New Yorker, a middle aged musician struggling to come to terms with his lack of success and inability to express his talent. He’s penniless, jobless and soon to be homeless until he gets in with Branko, a Serbian immigrant, and finds himself on a plane to Belgrade after having agreed to marry Branko’s girlfriend in exchange for a hefty wad of cash.
Initially a quick-fix solution (albeit a morally dubious one) to his cash-flow problems, Robert hopes to fly in, do the deed and get straight back out, but he finds something in Belgrade he wasn’t expecting. The simple storyline only provides the bones of the movie, which are fleshed out by the kind of emotionally and atmospherically charged, rambling scenes which more high-maintenance filmgoers than myself scorn, (“nothing really happened!”) but which I applaud for their lack of high-octane or fanciful elements. These are moments in which people make discoveries in new cities – think Lost In Translation, but with grit.
As for Robert’s discoveries about Belgrade, they include the city itself and its people, but he’s affected most of all by Olga, a gracious and quietly beautiful woman with a keen sense of propriety, a decent heart and a sensitive femininity that expresses itself in her penchant for talking to the flowers she grows on her high rise balcony. The film is a great accomplishment for actor David Thornton, who fails to rouse a single note of sympathy for his character. Whether intentional or not, the utterly unlikeable, socially awkward, disdainful and ungrateful Robert is superbly acted.
As the plot develops, he does become more willing to accept that his actions are often immoral and hurtful, but to remain as truly unlikeable as he does until the roll of the credits is a considerable achievement. Having said that, Robert does have one or two redeeming moments.
At first the film comes across as a commentary on the realities and hardships of life on the bread line, with Branko’s character portraying the thankless life of the honest immigrant, trying to make his way but ending up chewed up and spat out by an unforgiving city where everyone is out to get one over on you and take your money. But then I realised that, much more than this, the film wants us to consider the differences between two utterly different societies. Robert at first sees Belgrade as a hopeless, ravaged backwater – “Isn’t there, like, a war going on there?” yet in Serbia, amongst people who also live with next to nothing, he experiences a warmth, openness, trust and a willingness to share what little they do have seldom found on the streets of his home town.
In Tamo i Ovde, Darko Lungulov shines a new light on Belgrade that has little do with politics or war, but with humanity, community, friendship and simple pleasures, while at the same time casting a rare critical eye on the cold, competitive and corrupt metropolis of New York. It’s a touching film with interesting angles, often very funny and my favourite of 2010 so far. Highly recommended!
Tamo i Ovde was released in Europe in April 2010 and won ‘Best New York Narrative Award’ at the Tribeca International Film Festival 2009.
