MURINA (2021)

Tensions rise between restless teenager Julija and her oppressive father Ante when an old family friend arrives at their Croatian island home. As Ante attempts to broker a life-changing deal, their tranquil yet isolated existence leaves Julija wanting more from this influential visitor, who provides a taste of liberation over a weekend laid bare to desire and violence.

Boundless yet restrictive, calm yet relentless and powerful, Murina portrays both the open waters and a father in the same light; things that our protagonist is both comfortable with and afraid of. Significant parts of her life, familiar but ultimately representing prisons keep her from the freedom she desires.


Gorgeously shot, Murina is a slow burn that manages to remain emotionally charged throughout, despite an outwardly constrained set of events. A young girl, Julija (Gracija Filipovic) lives trapped on a beautiful Croatian island home, living a cyclical, repetitive set of events from day to day, a schedule set by her father. Longingly wanting to join the fun and excitement of the tourists that visit and then leave towards the unknown, Julija finds herself in a rebellious stage of life, pushing back on the boundaries that have been put in place by her controlling, and overprotective parent. 

A new temporary addition (New Zealand's own Cliff Curtis) to the family brings buried history to the surface and puts the spotlight on what could be a potential for escape, for young Julija.


With a minimal cast and limited locations around this island home, director, Antoneta Alamat Kusijanović, makes a strong choice to consistently explore the emotional narratives of each character. Constantly building and strengthening the core foundations of each character with every interaction. The four main characters are surprisingly complex, and anything but one-dimensional, portraying a variety of personalities depending on who they interact with. Cliff Curtis' Javier is to Julija, the loving uncle that could help her get away from the island, or to Julija's mother Nela (Danica Curcic), Javier is the one that got away; a romantic connection rekindled. To Julija's father Ante (Leon Lucev), however, Javier is a threat to the patriarchy of the family, while an opportunity for him to escape the island himself.


Julija finds herself torn between these two men in her life, and uses both her own interactions and the observed interactions of her mother, to figure out what path she needs. Both men represent differing extremes of masculinity, one that uses physical and emotional violence to ensure the submission of the women in his life, the other using money, stories, and charm to hide the pain in his life. Spurned by the calling of the outside world, she bates her father who exercises his power and control whenever it is threatened.


Surrounded by water, the film spends a good portion of the film diving deep into it, providing quiet moments for contemplation as the troubles of the world above cease to exist. Moments for Julija to explore jealousy, fear, resentment, envy, oppression, aggression, charm, and desire, without the external forces of her parents acting upon her. Her peaceful place, marred by her father's presence every morning; a presence that she comes to despise.


A slow burn, but emotionally compelling, Murina offers a coming-of-age story that beautifully encompasses the need to recognize and break away from oppression in a more realistic and grounded sense. Beautiful lighting and cinematography frames the delicate internal interactions well. Well worth a view.
 
Murina has been selected for screening at NZIFF 2021, now opening in Christchurch on Friday 29 October, Wellington opening on Thursday 4 November, and Dunedin on Friday 5 November, followed by the nine regional centres, before a nationwide release next year.