Atelje 212, Belgrade, premiere September 15th 2024
Mirjana Drljević‘s novel No One is Forgotten and We Remember Nothing (Niko nije zaboravljen i ničega se ne sećamo), as directed by Bojana Lazić for Atelje212, is a noir-esque mystery told from a distinctively female point of view.
Introspective but ruthless detective Lepa (played by Anastasia Mandić) delves into the case of three missing teenage girls from New Belgrade, only to discover that their fates have been influenced by events years before they were born and rooted in post-Yugoslavian trauma.
Although primarily a mystery with elements of mysticism, the narrative is filled with fragments of recognisably bittersweet Yugonostalgia, where beautiful memories quickly turn into the open wounds of the present. The action-packed narrative is generally skilfully dramatized with fragmented flashbacks that are activated by the opening of a freezer.
Drljević’s novel doesn‘t shy away from irony and the reader often finds themselves laughing at inappropriate times, something which is preserved in the dramatization as well. The tumultuous emotions of the mothers of the missing girls are believably captured by Borjanka Ljumović as Marta, Radmila Tomović as Danica and Aleksandra Janković as Katarina. Dressed in detective-like coats, they simultaneously embody the anxious mothers of the present and the playful young girls of the past. Mandić conveys her character’s peculiarity in her portrayal of Lepa, while Snežana Savić made a successful return to the stage as Marta‘s all-seeing judgemental mother. From romantic dreaminess to oblivion to abuse and with sharp social commentary, the entire narrative is dedicated to the different mother’s points of view. This centring of the female gaze was one of the strongest aspects of the production,
Lazić has taken great care to explore key symbols from the novel in her production, from the freezer that connects us to the past via flashbacks, something which becomes tied to fond childhood memories of eating ice cream. Recognisable military uniforms remain empty while the mothers recall their fathers and the omnipresent past. Zorana Petrov’s scenography is a collage of dull browns and grey tones, a nod to the noir genre, as well to Brutalist architecture. The mothers desperately tear at these walls while searching for their missing daughters.
Drljević‘s background as a dramaturg comes across strongly. Tiny details speak volumes and paint large pictures, which is why preserving fragments from the novel and integrating them in the narration of the play feels like the right choice here. The novel’s detail-rich, filmic universe can‘t be completely translated onto the stage, but dramaturg Dimitrije Kokanov and dramatist Slobodan Obradović have retained a strong sense of the book, while also streamlining it, erasing some male characters to focus more on the women.
Though this story is more focused on ‘why’ than ‘who’ did it, the conclusion does seem a little rushed and unfinished, something which is true both in the novel and the stage adaptation. A happy ending feels good, undoubtedly, especially in a case in which children are involved, but one can’t help but wonder how realistic it is, especially in the context of the crime genre.
The music is cleverly incorporated throughought, with Beograd spava (Belgrade sleeps), a song originally written and performed by U škripcu capturing the dream-like beauty of Belgrade, later remade by Block Out into a nightmarish lament of a dystopian post-war country. The use of Sunshine’s ‘91 Preview, complimenting the idea of ordinary people being pulled in and torn up by the brutality of war, is another strong musical choice.
Disillusionment with Yugoslavian heritage is in no way new, however the author brings to it a fresh perspective, while the creative team additionally enhance the female gaze. There’s a satisfying circularity to the production, which begins with a fire in Marta’s neighbouring greenhouse, with the dark surroundings illuminated by red lights and ends as Marta, Danica and Katarina water the colourful flowers, these two scenes efficiently tying the story together. Lepa’s promise to her paralyzed son that they will travel the world together encapsulates a new generation’s vow to make a better future for their successors, and although not necessary, it gives the conclusion a bittersweetly warm note.
This is a strong production that works on its own terms but will also hopefully encourage those who haven’t already to read the original novel. It can’t quite match it, but only because the book itself is so good.
Credits:
Author: Mirjana Drljević//Director: Bojana Lazić // Dramatization: Slobodan Obradović//Dramaturg: Dimitrije Kokanov//Set designer: Zorana Petrov// Costume designer: Biljana Tegeltija Bojanić// Composer: Vladimir Pejković// Stage movement: Damjan Kecojević// Organizer: Boško Radonjić
For tickets and more information, visit: Atelje212.rs
Ana Ogrizović is a Dramaturgy graduate from Serbia, recognised by multiple poetry, prose and playwriting competitions. She is currently pursing a Masters degree and editing her first poetry book.