A dark fairy tale of Serbia’s past

Serbia is a troubled country of rich history that lives by its myths and symbols. And so a new movie, billed as the most expensive locally made film ever, is a daring, bizarre and wholly provocative attempt to turn those images on their heads.

The movie (a word about the title in a minute) is the first full-length feature by director Uros Stojanovic, an ambitious 30-something who seems fond of entering a room with a flourish. It is set in a ravaged Serbia just after the First World War and tells the story of a village where there are no men left -- they’ve all died in battle.

Consequently, the cast is almost all female, full of strong and colorful Serbian actresses who represent the village in all its aspects: two sisters, the main characters, who are sent off in search of men; the sorceress; the bartender; the abandoned bride, the farmer.

The women desperately long for men, for the companionship and fulfillment that only love can bring them. Yet they are also resourceful, making do, building lives (albeit surreal ones) amid loss.

In one particularly evocative scene, the women sing noisily and achingly at the local tavern and then drink an enchanted grappa-like liquor containing a spider (a black widow?). With that, they fall into reverie of imagining their disappeared husbands and sons, who return as skeletons and ghosts, decaying bodies that are still somehow objects of great desire.

Most American audiences’ knowledge of Serbian filmmaking is limited to Emir Kusturica, whose works are critically acclaimed, edgy and the staples of art houses.

Stojanovic says he is aiming for a broader audience and has made much use (too much, in the opinion of some reviewers) of special effects and pyrotechnics to create a wild, raucous fairy tale of dark fantasies, witchcraft and the quest for love. The movie has an otherworldly look that echoes Tim Burton or “Pan’s Labyrinth”; it cost more than $4 million (a princely sum in this poor country) and took 200 days to shoot and three years to finish in post-production.

“Everyone thought we were mad,” said Stojanovic, dressed in a red top hat and black velvet coat.

Ultimately, it took a major assist from French director Luc Besson, who injected money and donated his post-production labs to complete the project.

The original title of the movie is “Carleston za Ognjenku” (Charleston for Ognjenka), and it was initially given the English title of “Charleston & Vendetta.” (Ognjenka is the star of the film, the older of the two sisters who search for men; Charleston refers to the dance that was being introduced into Serbia at the time.)

However, Stojanovic said he planned to change the English-language title to “The Funeral Brides,” which he thought would make more sense to international audiences. Besson’s firm will handle distribution in Europe and possibly the U.S., Stojanovic said.

The highly stylized visuals (at one point, the sorceress unleashes a flock of digitally animated bat-like butterflies who then repeatedly fill the screen) do not obscure a firm anti-war message, Stojanovic says.

“Fantasy is psychology,” the director said. “The ghost exists whether you see it or not.”

Among the national myths and cultural allusions that Stojanovic and co-writer Aleksandar Radivojevic have twisted are that of the patient, virginal Serbian woman sitting at home, waiting for the men to return, or relegated to a life of mourning the men who do not. These women are lusty and independent.

“This is the first time you have strong women who do something for themselves,” said actress Radmila Tomovic, who plays the sorceress, a character identifiable by the dead bird on her head.

And when a man is found, he is not a romantic figure but something of a buffoon. He is a circus performer who shoots out of cannons and calls himself the Man of Steel, a sendup of a real folkloric character in early 20th century Serbia. His portrayal here serves to deconstruct the image of the macho Balkan male.

Also challenged is the notion of blind self-sacrifice, of men marching off willingly and without question to war, as has so frequently happened in Serbian history. Enshrined in traditional songs and slogans as part of the Serbian identity is a faithful disposition to don a uniform and fight for the fatherland.

And so Serbia’s World War I veterans are considered historical heroes; their tombstones, engraved with soldiers’ images, are distinctive. It is, then, perhaps most provocative that Stojanovic has all sorts of risque activity going on alongside graves or in a hearse; tombstones fall, crush people or are mere backdrops to sexual gratification.

Keeping the audience

STOJANOVIC’S setting of a man-less village could have been very modern. After Serbian forces attacked Bosnian villages like Srebrenica a decade ago, killing thousands of Muslim men, numerous communities were left without menfolk -- devastating in the Balkan patriarchal society.

But the director deliberately chose an old war. Not, he says, because he was afraid to antagonize audiences but because he did not want to lose them.

“If you make the movie about one contemporary event, [audiences] can’t relate. I’m not afraid to offend, but movies are only important if you can communicate,” he said. “I had no intention of reaching only people who believe like me. We wanted the film to be seductive.”

The movie has been released at a particularly fraught time in Serbia. Presidential elections recently gave a narrow victory to the liberal, pro-Western incumbent over a radical nationalist, but the radicals remain strong and may rise to power. Meanwhile, Serbia is losing 15% of its territory with the secession of the Albanian-dominated province of Kosovo -- a soul-wrenching blow to the Serbian psyche.

Against such a backdrop, Stojanovic is bracing for the reaction from nationalists. And reviewers have been only lukewarm, many commenting that the movie has a rushed, unfinished feel to it and that plot is often sacrificed to the burlesque.

Milan Vlajcic, film critic for the liberal Blic daily, felt that way, but he nevertheless recommended “Charleston” be seen.

“This will be a big challenge for our audiences, and I’m not sure they’ll be happy,” Vlajcic said. “The movie is curative. It’s a catharsis, and, in small steps, cures us of the stereotypes of our myths.”

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tracy.wilkinson@latimes.com