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Road to the Oscars 2025: This is nominated for one Oscar best short film.

This one I didn´t know much about going in and it was a short that send me down a rabbit hole to understand it fully. Not that it is hard to understand, but it depicts a historical time and war I simply did not know much about. It is always nice to be challenged and asked to know more, but this is a short where you need to know a little bit about the Balkan war to really let it hit. It is still impactful and relevant to think about in today's international climate, but as a history drama on its own it needs a little context.

A train is stopped looking for anyone believing in the wrong god. A man is hiding with no papers to show.

I really liked the cinematography here. It is in this old claustrophobic train and it definitely works as intended, only adding to the tension in the short. No where to hide or run to.

Ad mentioned, you need to know your history a little bit to make the short really land. It is not holding your hand, assuming you know why these men are doing the atrocities they are. After reading a bit about the Balkan wars, it is sad to see countries hunting down each other like this. And also as mentioned it is something that rings out even if you understand the context or not as ethnic hunts still persist to this day. It is always nice having a short shining a light on something you don´t really know much about, making you learn more.

This is a rather plotless shorty though. Not much happens and it is primarily waiting for the confrontation, but with a rather good use of tension.

This was a good short and one shining a light on a part of history that is interesting to read about. It might have needed a bit more in terms of its plot though.

Oscar predictions: I think this is the weakest of the 3 shorts I have watched in the category. Doesn't make it bad, but weaker compared to I´m not a robot(2023) or A lien(2023). It is also not really pushing an academy agenda.

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" impresses with how it transforms a historical event into a universal narrative of courage and sacrifice. Directed by Nebojsa Slijepcevic, the film takes place in a claustrophobic setting aboard a train, stopped by a militia searching for deserters and traitors. With a camera that closely captures the passengers' expressions, the film builds a gripping suspense, exploring human reactions in the face of extreme situations. The tension isn't just in the unfolding events, but in the moral struggle that develops within each character.

The short's main strength is its intimate and minimalist approach, which avoids dramatic spectacles and focuses on the power of individual choices. The decision to shift the spotlight from the hero to an ordinary passenger - someone unable to act in the face of injustice - forces the audience to question what they would do in a similar situation. Alexis Manenti's performance as the ruthless militia man adds layers to the story, while Dragan Micanovic brings intensity to the role of the man who decides to intervene at the last moment. This is a narrative about the strength of unwavering values and the weight of silence, both from those who watch and those who choose not to act.

At the end, the tribute to Tomo Buzov, the real man who inspired the story, is made with painful subtlety. The sound of the train moving again during the credits symbolizes the passage of time and the impossibility of going back. Slijepcevic not only honors a forgotten hero but challenges the audience to confront their own limitations and courage.

"The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent" is not just a tribute to an act of bravery but a reflection on the impact of the choices we make - and the ones we don't make - in moments when morality is tested to its limits.

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.

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.