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Filming Between the Lines
by Sean Keeley
Trust the man with the gun, you have no choice.
It's 1993, warring in Bosnia-Herzegovina is at fever pitch. Bosnian relief troops find themselves lost and ambushed in the middle of an open field. After being gunned down, a rough cut Bosnian Ciki (Branko Djuric) appears to be only survivor, wounded in an abandoned trench. The Serbs send over a two-man team to make sure they've eliminated the enemy, one of which is Nino (Rene Bitorajac), a fresh faced innocent. Nino's partner takes one of the Bosnian soldier’s seemingly lifeless body and shows Nino first-hand the ugly truth of war--a scary dangerous mine is crudely set up beneath the body that will go off when the body is moved.
Getting the drop on the Serbs, Ciki manages to kill one but only wound the other, Nino. In a tense moment, Ciki holds his smoking automatic gun barrel over the cowering wounded Nino deciding to let him live, at least, temporarily.
In a scene reminiscent of “Enemy Mine,” the two enemies one-up each other in reversals of power, while also learning to see each other more as humans than just the enemy. Conversation reveals that the two men know some of the same people. Ciki comments on a voluptuous young woman they both once knew. She has moved out of the country, Nino tells Ciki. Ciki is not surprised as he looks sadly around him.
The story tightens when the body, Ciki's friend Cera (Filip Sovagovic), resting precariously on the fierce spiked mine coughs to life. Unable to move because of the deadly mine beneath him, Cera is powerless. Likewise, Ciki refuses to leave his friend and the wounded Nino also remains in the trench.
The first half of the movie tells its story as straightforwardly as possible, humanizing these soldiers and allowing them to gain some level of respect for each other. Of course, all this changes when the United Nations get involved.
Halfway through the film, a mini catch-up lesson on the history of the conflict uncovers that “No Man's Land” is a metaphor for the conflict itself. Bosnians and Serbs, just like Ciki and Nino, remain at war, yet, they are unable to close the deal because of the wounded country and the wounded people they fight for; between them coughs the wounded Cera who sadly in the most human of ways needs to use the latrine.
But the most scathing commentary and, maybe, the most politically suspect portion of “No Man’s Land” is its look at the United Nations and the people/nations who compose its leadership. The French are depicted as fumbling, only seeming to come to rescue reluctantly at first, but ending up setting off the inevitable violent end for the Bosnians and Serbs. A German bomb expert shown outwardly precise and strong is unwilling to make the sacrifice when the time comes. And lest we forget the British with leadership positions and journalist "integrity," this movie is not kind.
The funniest joke of the film, and believe it or not this film is funny in a tragic way, is the ongoing theme that each country's representatives cannot speak each other's tongue, yet, they all speak English, a telling sign of the interplay of nations and how close and far apart they truly are.
The language barrier encountered by the UN is a ironic foil. According to the press materials on “No Man’s Land:” “The language spoken by the Serbians, the Croatians and the Bosnians is in fact the same. Today, the Serbians call it Serbian while the Bosnians call it Bosnian and the Croatians call it Croatian; yet when they speak they all understand each other perfectly."
Make no mistake, “No Man's Land” pulls no punches when it comes to telling the story of the view from the Bosnian front. It is a war movie. Yet, it is also a satire. A fine line walked well but maybe with a slanted view. Ciki is clad in his Rolling Stones shirt and unkempt camouflage pants. He's a Bosnian, a down and dirty good guy, doing whatever it takes to defend his people and honor. And Nino, although wholesome at first and clean in military issue fatigues, is a Serb, a soldier, too proud to let his wounds show, hungry for victory, perhaps, at any cost.
What I loved about the story, and more specifically Danis Tanovic's screenplay (which won Best Screenplay at Cannes), was the chance it took on its main characters. Ciki and Nino dominate the first half of the movie, as to be expected, as we get to know them and watch them interact with each other. Then, just as the conflict becomes less about those fighting and more about the diplomacy surrounding it, Ciki and Nino mesh into the ensemble cast. A risky move, but one that was necessary in the context of their place within the story.
Most Americans should do themselves a favor and see “No Man's Land” as a primer to explain the real war in Bosnia. “No Man's Land” draws you in with comedy and satire but leaves you with the empty feeling only war can bring, a strange combination indeed. But as the movie proves, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
Sean Keeley, 2001
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