Kristina Kumrić has helmed several short fiction and documentary films. Her short documentary “Welcome to Igrane” won a special jury prize at the Vukovar Film Festival, and her short doc “i like that super most the best” won the Audience Award at the Liburnia Film Festival. Kumrić is a lecturer at the University of Osijek in Croatia.
“Half A Man” premiered at the 2016 Toronto International Film Festival on September 10.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
KK: Maja Hrgović wrote this story based on her personal life. It happened in 1991 during the war in Croatia, when she was eleven years old and her sister was nine. It is a coming-of-age story about two ordinary pre-teen girls who are growing up in unusual conditions.
The story takes place on the day that their father came back from the war camp. He had been there for three months. The girls are having a dance rehearsal with their friends after school, arguing with boys on the playground — usual kids’ stuff. When they come home they find anything but the happy welcoming, atmosphere [they expected].
Their father, who is obviously broken, is trying to be present and their mother is trying to hide the fact that she is upset. There is also their annoying neighbor who is drinking and blabbering about everyday things until it becomes [too] unpleasant [to continue]. The situation is far from normal, although everybody is trying to act [as though these are ordinary circumstances]. Each character has their own way of dealing with the situation.
I didn’t want the war to be literally present in the movie: We can only see its consequences.
The younger girl, Mia, shows her rebellious attitude from the first shot. She doesn’t want to dance with girls in rehearsal, but when the guys come and the arguing between girls and boys starts, she is the loudest one. She’s also the strongest one — she fights for the girls. Once the kids head home, she secretly observes the adults.
She sees her mother falling apart, but she doesn’t want to show how she feels — she is just mirroring all the adults around her. That’s why the story is told through the girl’s eyes. The whole family — and their neighbors — are shocked by the father’s physical state and appearance. This man is not the father who left. So it’s not just the father who is only half a man — they are all half of the people [they were before he left and returned].
W&H: What drew you to this story?
KK: I didn’t want to make a movie centered on war as a topic. War is such a big theme. I somehow hoped that I would never have to deal with it as a subject. Then I realized that I could use a different approach, a sort of escapism.
Everybody in that house is too afraid to ask questions about the things that happened in the war camp — except the neighbor, who finds courage from drinking. Everybody tries to avoid looking at the father. They are trying to hide their real reactions [and feelings].
So I decided that a kid should be the focal character. The father is marginalized figure, and so war becomes marginalized. I tried to show his character as objectified — not for feminist reasons, but to show that war objectifies all men. The war becomes sort of an abstract thing.
What truly drew me to the story was the character of Mia — her anger and indignation.
I see her behavior, especially in the first half of the film, as a projection of everything that was going on around her — of that horror she tries to understand but is unable to, because it’s irrational. So, for me her behavior is just a normal response to that abnormal situation. And that outrage comes from her fear and pain.
W&H: What do you want people to think about when they are leaving the theater?
KK: If the film stayed with them after the watching that would be a big [accomplishment]. There are still wars going on somewhere. And families are still falling apart. Even today we have children refugees who are wandering through Europe and they have no clue why these things are happening.
If people experience any emotion, that’s fine with me — [I just want them to feel something].
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
KK: I wanted to show all the layers of the characters — to portray them as flesh and blood. These girls’ father could have been anybody’s father from any war camp in any war, [and I wanted that point to come across].
The biggest challenge was actually the fact that I was dealing with someone’s real life experience — it’s someone’s personal story. But when I realized that I wanted to make a film, not to reconstruct an actual events, it became easier.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.
KK: The film was funded by HAVC —the Croatian Audiovisual Centre. Almost all Croatian movies are supported by HAVC. This is usual practice in Croatia. It’s hard to get the money for the film anywhere else. We got also some funds from the Ministry of War Veterans and French fund Ile-de-France Film Commission.
W&H: What does it mean for you to have your film play at TIFF?
KK: It is a huge deal because TIFF is one of the most important festivals, and I am so proud to be a part of a festival which raises awareness about women in film. I believe that TIFF is a great opportunity for women directors and I am very pleased that my film will be screened there.
W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?
KK: The best advice: Do it your own way.
I ignore bad advice.
W&H: What advice do you have for other female directors?
KK: Do it your own way. Stop trying to prove yourself because you don’t have to prove anything to anybody.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
KK: “Daisies,” a 1996 film by Vera Chytilova. She was a pioneer of the ’60s Czechoslovak New Wave movement. Even [by those standards] she was avant-garde. Even though it’s been half a century since this movie was made, it’s still so contemporary and relevant.
It’s about two girls who “went bad” and broke every convention of their petty bourgeois lives. Chytilova speaks about the image of women in modern culture — about women’s sexuality and their expected roles in society. And she did it as a parody. She played with it, perverted it, knocked it over, and ripped it. And it was done in such a witty, smart way. She deals with the banality of consumer society as well. The visual aesthetics of the film are mesmerizing. She played with some rules of filmmaking, too. For example, the movie has some black and white parts and some in color with no explanation within the story.
There are so many things we can learn from her and her movies —[ the value of] breaking the rules, for instance.
She died two years ago and she was making movies till the end. I love her because of her vision, courage, and provocation.
W&H: Have you seen opportunities for women filmmakers increase over the last year due to the increased attention paid to the issue? If someone asked you what you thought needed to be done to get women more opportunities to direct, what would be your answer?
KK: The presence of women directors is increasing constantly, and that is great. I guess that increase will create an entirely new atmosphere in the film industry and offer some different, fresh voices. TIFF and other organizations and fests that give women support and let them be visible are actually very encouraging for [female filmmakers].
It’s so simple: Just let women make films. We need different points of view. The more perspectives we have on the world, [our conception of] of the world becomes larger. Different women from different parts of the world can contribute a lot to film industry and they have a lot to say. Some of them are angry, [and] some of them are bitter — let them yell!
