Clip is a Serbian film that I found more disturbing than A Serbian Film. The latter picture gained notoriety last year for its graphic depictions of rape, incest, paedophilia and necrophilia, and was the result of additional controversy in Australia after it was refused classification – banned – by the Australian classification review board. Personally however, I found the content of director Srđan Spasojević movie to be so ludicrous – and so explicitly designed to generate controversy – that it never really provoked much of a reaction. Not so with Clip. The directorial debut of twenty-eight year old filmmaker Maja Miloš, the sexual content in Clip is less extreme than in Spasojević’s film, although its depiction is no less graphic. But unlike A Serbian Film, there is gravity to Miloš’ picture; a severity – if not a realism – that is genuinely challenging, and provokes a far more visceral reaction.

Protagonist Jasna (Isidora Simijonovic) is a teenage girl who seeks to drown her misery in the desolate shallows of sex, drugs and alcohol. Alienated from her home life, she treats her family – younger sister, overworked mother and terminally ill father – with hostility and contempt. Her nights are spent in dingy clubs or wandering the desolate streets of her decaying Serbian town with her friends, camera phone permanently recording in her hand, trying desperately to gain the favour of Djordje (Vukasin Jasnic), a popular boy in her class. And she’s willing to commit the most humiliating sexual acts in order to do so.

The callousness of Djordje treatment of Jasna is abhorrent, but what disturbs even more is her continual compliance. Miloš shoots the sex scenes as she shoots the rest of the film: with a detached stillness that neither judges the characters or spares their audience from discomfort (the depiction of sexual activity in this film is extraordinarily explicit). She also frequently intercuts footage from Jasna’s phone, which the misguided girl uses to document every facet of her life. This is a particularly brilliant touch that not only adds a sickening layer of realism to the film, but also raises questions of viewer culpability in regards to the contemporary cultural obsession with viral videos…and amateur pornography.

Simijonovic performance – a debut – is haunting. Beyond obvious compliments about her unflinching bravery in going through with such a role, there is a clear internal sadness to her portrayal of Jasna that is profoundly moving. Specific reasons for her characters behaviour are never outlined – is it her failure to deal with her father’s illness, poor parenting, or just a typical teenage desperation to belong? Her horrible treatment of her family makes it hard to like her, but her suffering makes her pitiable.

Clip falls into the same category of recent films like Snowtown and The Human Centipede 2: brave in its content, compelling in its bleakness, impressive in its artistry. The kind of picture you can appreciate and be glad you saw, then never watch again.

—

Clip was reviewed as part of our coverage of the 41^st International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR).

You can read all of Tom Clift’s coverage of the festival here.

Follow the author Tom Clift on Twitter.

Related Posts:

Still Life [Stillleben] (IFFR Review)

Room 514 (IFFR Review)

Ace Attorney (IFFR Review)

When the Lights Went Out (IFFR Review)

The Comedy (IFFR Review)