Prdavac (lat. Crex crex, eng. Corn Crake)
Status: selica (migratory)
Photo by Jari Peltomäki

seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Slovakia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Australia

seen from Ukraine
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Finland
seen from United States
Prdavac (lat. Crex crex, eng. Corn Crake)
Status: selica (migratory)
Photo by Jari Peltomäki
2014: Kosac
I don’t mind criticism (giving or receiving). It is constructive if delivered well, and it is necessary. But I always struggle to give a particular kind of criticism - the “I wish this looked differently...” kind. I am a true fan of Zvonimir Jurić, a young Croatian director whose work I find instinctively so important and close to me, as if he is turning my on thoughts into frames sometimes. I love his sensibility for the hidden yet painful, for the repressed and political, and I find his visual language magnificently beautiful even when it is repulsive. That being said, while a part of me immensely admires his last film, Kosac, every time I see it I wish some things had been done differently. I na three-story track that he follows, one story looks so much like it belongs to Cristi Puiu or Corneliu Porumboiu (two other of my favourites, and I would imagine Jurić’s too) that it empties out of the features that make Jurić so incredible in his own right. This becomes even more obvious - and even more regrettable - when one watches it in the context of the other two stories, and in particular the first one, which is full of authenticity and so meticulously, intelligently made. Film is an intertextual art - everyone cites, borrows and quotes, and this is in the nature of the art, not an excess. Even more so - sometimes the contexts are so similar, it is not a surprise that they are shown similarly on screen (I always say that Radu Jude’s The Happiest Girl in the World could - and should - have been made anywhere in the former Yugoslavia too). But sometimes our eyes crave novelty, and we reject even the slightest predictability - even if the work itself is admirable. Do NOT let this deter you, though. See the film. It is truly a wonderful piece of filmmaking nonetheless, and so so important. And Jurić is truly a voice that is worth paying attention to.
Mille chevaux ... = Tysiąc koni ... = тысяча лошадей ...