Tea Lukač makes her feature directorial debut with Roots, a conceptual documentary that captures scenic landscapes and personal reflections in Dvor, Croatia, Lukač’s hometown. The film premiered at this year’s Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in the East of the West competition.
Roots interweaves long static shots of nature with accounts of different personal histories and anecdotes filmed from inside the back of a moving van. Multiple groups of passengers tell their stories, sing, casually chat with one another, or stare silently out the window. We catch glimpses of houses and forests lining the road through the van’s back window, but are otherwise confined to the one interior. When not inside the van we are completely immersed in nature, no civilization in sight. We can almost smell the fresh pine and feel the mist on our face. Long takes of pristine rivers and the wind in the trees are meditative reminders to slow down our frantic lives, while the film’s languid pacing emphasizes the importance of appreciating nature and preserving our memories and culture through stories and oral tradition.
hile Roots is a documentary and portrays real anecdotes from real residents, in the film’s press notes Lukač asserts that her feature blurs the lines between documentary, ethnography and fiction, as she stages scenes to more effectively capture “a mosaic of stories.” An experienced short documentary filmmaker, Lukač plays with form in Roots to create a poetic expression of the film’s title. Lukač describes her decision to edit the sequence of passengers to represent the cyclical nature of life, beginning with four costumed children and moving through the various stages of adulthood and old age until the film ends with an epilogue depicting absence, in which the van is empty save for a bag of groceries. Likewise, where the children discuss a carnival and compare their candy hauls, the adults’ conversations largely focus on social issues, and finally Lukač’s grandfather reflects on a childhood memory, thus completing the cycle.
Some passenger sequences are far more compelling than others, and each consists of a similar runtime; combined with the relaxed, contemplative nature of the film, we sometimes find ourselves drifting aimlessly from one static long take to the next. The “absence” scene and the one in which a solo passenger is silent his entire ride (aside from the occasional noises emanating from his cell phone) drag on. In contrast, the grandfather’s monologue recounting a childhood memory in which he miraculously survived being stung by twenty-three hornets as a teenager and later proved immune to the 1957-1958 influenza pandemic that tore through his military unit is a captivating tale that draws on oral tradition. Rade Rakas, the grandfather, is a natural storyteller, weaving suspense and the fantastical into his narration.
Stunning cinematography showcases ethereal landscapes and creates a magic realism that immerses viewers in an ecological fantasy of untouched nature. The attention to the beauty of the natural world also works well alongside a sequence in which passengers discuss the local fight against a government-proposed nuclear waste program that threatens to destroy the health of the surrounding environment. The meditative calm imparted from the frequent focus on nature diminishes somewhat as the film meanders on, its languid pacing becoming somewhat tedious instead of refreshing. The film urges patience and preservation, a necessary but sadly difficult task for contemporary audiences.
In the press notes, Lukač adds relevant personal and historical context that elevates our appreciation of the film. Lukač explains her intimate connection to the film, noting that she was forced to leave Dvor at the age of six when war arrived at their doorstep. She and many others experienced the loss of their personal histories as a result, lending inspiration to the film’s focus on preserving stories, cultures, and traditions. The additional context from the press notes is not conveyed in the film. Although Lukač’s intention may have been to avoid dwelling on a painful time in order to safeguard the present as well as “stories struggling not to be forgotten,” the personal and historical context enriches the viewing experience.
Score: B-