Der Mann, der nicht schweigen konnte

Hearing that this short film won the Palme d'Or immediately piqued my interest. After watching the director's brief video introduction, my curiosity grew even more. The film is based on a true story that unfolded over 20 minutes, yet the movie itself runs for only 13 minutes. I believe they missed an opportunity by not matching the film's duration to the real event, which could have heightened the tension and allowed us to experience the emotions more deeply.

The topic of the film is extremely important and more relevant than ever, resonating with the current social and political climate. It's a powerful reminder of the real-world issues we face today, making it not just a piece of entertainment, but also a critical conversation starter. The cinematography is stunning, and the cast delivers exceptional performances. However, the sound mixing could have been better; there were moments where the sound had the potential to elevate the film to another level. Despite this, the film succeeds in leaving a lasting impact, both visually and emotionally.

Intense story about war time and legitimation of abuse and reaction about rights of the other , ignoring the risks.

A train, an army presumed check , a young man without ID papers and the simple story of survive of other .

The atmosphere is the main trait and, for older viewers, the remind of episodes presented by media, at the first part of 1990 decade, from Yugoslavian space.

The portrait of Dragan, proposed by Goran Bogdan , is one of basic essential virtues of film. The interest of militaries is to identify Muslims - this explains the familiar question in Serbian culture, about the saint patron of family. But the heart is the sacrifice of captain for save the young man . And the brutality of military, like his lie .

In short, intense story for profound remind of a version of evil never dead.

This is quite a tensely shot short drama that depicts a scene on a train that has been stopped on it's journey through Bosnia by a paramilitary gang seeking Muslims. They are polite enough to the "brother" passengers whose papers they inspect, but "Milan" (Silvio Mumelas) in one carriage has no papers and is terrified. His fellow travellers offer him some comfort and one, the retired captain "Tomo" (Dragan Micanovic) sticks his neck out when they try to remove the man from their compartment. When the train eventually moves on, fellow passenger and family man "Dragan" (Goran Bogdan) wonders if he, too, ought to have done more. The Balkan conflict of the early 1990s has been largely forgotten by us now, so this is quite a poignant reminder of the cruelties of ethnic cleansing enforced during a brutal war that saw the rule of law abandoned and the rule of a vengeful few capitalise on the fears of the general population to impose their will.

A movie you watch with a lump in your throat. From the beginning, there is an underlying ominous tone, all because of the events that happened as the curtain falls on this perfectly executed short.

In today's day and age, there was no need for the director to show you the atrocities, the executions, the blood and gore - it's all a quick google search away. This horrific crime against humanity, and many more committed by the same perpetrator, are yours to learn about, spread the knowledge, and do whatever is in your power not to let them happen again.

The film also, as the director states, sends a broader, universal message about true heroes and helping fellow man, standing up to an oppressor when it matters most.

The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent tries to tackle a powerful historical event but collapses under the weight of its own self-importance. The film's direction is painfully heavy-handed, with every frame screaming for attention instead of letting the story speak for itself. The dialogue is stilted and often feels like a lecture rather than natural human interaction, robbing the characters of depth and authenticity.

While the subject matter is undeniably significant, the film fails to convey the emotional weight it demands, relying on clichés and oversimplified moralizing. At just 13 minutes, it somehow manages to feel both rushed and overly drawn out, lacking the balance necessary to make its brief runtime impactful.

What should have been a poignant meditation on courage and complicity comes off as hollow and contrived. It's a missed opportunity that, despite its lofty intentions, leaves the audience feeling more exasperated than moved.