Iva Radivojevic’s 1992-Set Forced Migration Story ‘When the Phone Rang’ Is as Relevant Today as Ever: ‘This Kind of Displacement Is Happening Everywhere’

As a movie critic with a penchant for films that delve into the human experience and its intricacies, I find “When the Phone Rang” to be a poignant and profound exploration of memory, identity, and dislocation. Born in Serbia and having lived in various countries myself, I can’t help but resonate with the themes that Iva Radivojević has woven so beautifully into this narrative.

1992 saw a life-altering phone call for 11-year-old Lana, an event that would echo profoundly throughout her existence. This is the captivating leitmotif woven into Iva Radivojević’s second film, “When the Phone Rang” (2024), which was showcased in the Concorso Cineasti del Presente section of the Locarno Film Festival.

Lana suffers a double shock with the phone call, as it signifies both the loss of her grandfather and her homeland. This event plunges her into a prolonged feeling of disorientation, causing her memories and history to become fragmented. To combat the impact of migration, she compulsively revisits that phone call as a means of clinging to what she knows is true. In this critical time when she must adapt rapidly to redefining her national identity and home, she finds herself grappling with these changes.

The movie turns out to be a blend of a travel documentary and a reenactment of a personal recollection, shying away from individuality to create a shape-shifting form that connects people regardless of geographical locations. Although Radivojević makes it clear that the dissolved nation is Yugoslavia, the country that no longer exists is left unnamed in the film. She clarifies, “Displacement like this occurs everywhere, in various forms, such as Ukraine, Palestine, and Sudan. I aimed to make it universally applicable and relevant to any period.”

Radivojević, born in Serbia and now residing in Lesbos, Greece, has been consistently creating short films, documentaries, and one full-length narrative film titled “Aleph” (2021). Her work often explores themes like displacement, the flexibility of national identity, and nomadic living. Although her upcoming feature film also deals with these topics, “When the Phone Rang” marks her initial foray into exploring her personal history, a journey she embarks on as she contemplates returning to a place she cherishes.

As a former Yugoslavian who spent my formative years in Cyprus, I later lived extensively in the United States before eventually finding myself back in Greece. The familiarity of returning to the culture that shaped me stirred something deep within. Life had been so focused on survival that there was little time for introspection, and eventually, the unresolved traumas surfaced. It seemed like the perfect moment for them to speak up, particularly amidst the global displacement that we’re witnessing today.

Radivojević went back to Serbia, gathered a team of eight individuals who all handled various tasks in the production process. In fact, Radivojević herself took on the role of art director as well, explaining that large sets make her anxious. Due to financial limitations, she resided in the same apartment where they filmed, although it was somewhat uncomfortable for her. “I think I would’ve preferred a separation between life and work,” she admits, “but perhaps it was essential for me to be there.”

Later, she collected her longtime friends, local acquaintances, and cherished family photos with the intention of creating a vivid depiction of a young girl and her community, replete with a recognizable ensemble of characters that Radivojević once knew and then let go. “It’s about preserving them in time, space, and memory to ensure they don’t slip away or disappear. I want them to persist.” In one joyful package, Radivojević had assembled everything she longed for from her past, within easy grasp.

As a devoted admirer, I’ve always been captivated by Radivojević’s artistic approach that frequently incorporates voiceovers. These disembodied voices symbolize the migrant experience, seamlessly transitioning across borders in search of a familiar place to reconnect with. In her own words, “Migrants, as they journey, adapt languages and personas. Shapeshifting is intrinsic to their identity.”

Following this thought, I liken the voice to a spectral presence that echoes through the visuals, a subtle reminder of the fading sharpness in recollected imagery. As my own voice fluctuates rhythmically and tonally to capture an “immersive blend of internal and external experiences,” the telephone transforms into a temporal device, facilitating interactions between the past and future.

In this conversation, the child plays a pivotal role. This isn’t just because of Radivojević’s recollections, but also due to the powerful impact that narrating from a child’s viewpoint can have. This approach lets us tap into their unfiltered and straightforward emotions, thereby adding depth and intensity to the narrative.

The portrayal acknowledges children’s strength, wisdom, and tenacity, rather than focusing on the dramatic aspects of a distressing event. Instead, we witness scenes that brought Lana delight, such as her funny haircuts, kitchen dances, or her initial feelings of friendship love. By highlighting these joyful moments, we were able to truly feel her sorrow when those happy moments were taken away.

“Radivojević admits, ‘I wish to express my sorrow.’ He explains that by allowing others to see your hurt, the healing process becomes easier, and in this case, that ‘other’ could simply be you.”

2024-08-14 15:17

Iva Radivojevic’s 1992-Set Forced Migration Story ‘When the Phone Rang’ Is as Relevant Today as Ever: ‘This Kind of Displacement Is Happening Everywhere’

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