When in the 80's and especially 90's, it became evident that film modernism
had gone down the tubes Branko Bauer could not make a comeback in
cinematography, to which he still had a lot to give. At least he could ensure
the return of the good, old, classic professionalism.

At the end of Three Girls Named Ana by Branko Bauer from the 1959, the hero, a retired
tram driver from Belgrade Marko Petric (Dusan Stefanovic) cries over his
daughter Ana, long lost during WW II, while some elementary school kids in an
improvised history class in a park where he sits, are clearly bored with their
teacher pompously glorifying the national liberation war and its achievements…

This bitter finale of one of the best films by Bauer displays all the multilayer
and historical meanings of this most important Croatian director: in the turmoil
of a big war the old tram driver lost his daughter, which for him is such a big
reason for a personal drama that the ideologically favored historical outcome of
that event (the victory of socialism!) has absolutely no meaning for him, just
like the Communist party recitation of the teacher has no meaning for the kids!


Bauer’s interest for the individual, subtly juxtaposed to the interests and
ideas of the ruling social values, is unique in the history of Yugoslavian film
and less known and valued than his legendary almost Hollywood-like
professionalism. It is a paradox that the young filmmaker Bauer started his film
career by accident in the beginning of 50’s with everything but professional
training and only with the experience as a viewer. After a few less demanding
jobs in the film industry, in 1953 he directs The Seagull, an
adaptation of the children’s adventure novel by the Slovenian writer Tone
Seliškar, with astounding self-confidence.

He made a genre film (adventure) at that time and, by wrapping it in a
film for kids, skillfully escaped the policemen of the ideology (for a reward
for the adventure film for adults at that time would probably be a ticket to
Goli otok!), and at the same time he showed more than one thing: that Bauer all
by himself, without any film education, unmistakably overcomes the principles of
classic directing, that he is interested in, at the time, “heretic” genres and
that he is much more concerned with telling stories about different characters
than ideological recitations about his surroundings.

Overcoming the so-called classic style (straight line film narration and almost
complete absence of the director’s author voice) soon ensured Bauer the position
of an esteemed director, especially after his triumph with the urbane war drama
Don’t Look Back, My Son in 1956, when he, being a very modest and tactful
filmmaker, according to his own charming statement he made years later, “became
a little bit stuck-up”… This film opens Bauer’s most mature phase (56-63),
during which he made almost all of his films that were famous at the time and
those that only became famous today (Only People, Three Girls Named Ana, Martin u oblacima, One too Many, Licem u lice).

Winter Vacation in Jakobsfeld (1975) and A Farm in Mali Rit (1976), also
shown in this program, are his outstanding later works that successfully
illustrate the problems that a classic director faces in times of the reign of
terror of film modernism, so unknown to Bauer. Unconditionally classic in his
directing approach and public and private ethics, for some time and without much
success Bauer tries to join a group of modern film authors and their movements
in the stormy 60’s, only to find a fortunate and logical refuge in television,
at that time still young, which cried out for professional standards that were
already overcame in cinematography. On television he directed documentaries,
educational films and a TV series A Farm in Mali Rit, after which both
films were made.

When in the 80's and especially 90's, it became evident that film modernism had
gone down the tubes (especially Croatian modernism, so pathetic and unpleasantly
fleeting), Branko Bauer could not make a comeback in cinematography, to which he
still had a lot to give. At least he could ensure the return to the good, old,
classic professionalism, upon which his colleagues Ford and Hitchcock insisted
when they, with indignation, refused the terms artist and art and swore on
professionalism of an intelligent storyteller. They, as well as, Bauer were
great, possibly because of their free-of-affectation respect for the craft of
film “writing”. (Vladimir Tomić)