Kukumi

I am a Serb and Kosovo is an emotional place in our hearts. When I ordered this movie on Netflix I wasn't sure what to expect. With a relief, this movie isn't a piece of political propaganda or nationalist nonsense. This is a warm and tender metaphor about freedom or lack of it for some people. With a beginning of chaos after the conflict in 1999, the doors of the mental hospital are open and mentally ill people are trying to breathe little freedom themselves. " Kukumi" is a slow, sometimes meandering movie and its main characters seem more mentally retarded than mentally ill, but its quiet power touches your heart in the end. In the world bombarded with sounds and sensations its slow storytelling forces you to look not only around you, but into your own soul.

Isa Qosja is a thoughtful, intelligent filmmaker who, with "Kukumi," has created a haunting look at prejudice. The film isn't a simple look at the problems of the emerging Kosovo, a controversial issue that tends to draw out the worst aspects of both ethnic Albanian and Serbian artists. It's closer to the theme explored in Philippe de Broca's "Le Roi de Coeur," which says that the world is insane and only those who have lost their minds truly understand that. The irony is that Qosja doesn't take political sides: The villains, such as they are, are those who hate what they fear. And most people who encounter our three protagonists, Kukumi, Mara and Hasan - patients who have escaped from a mental institution - treat them badly. From the acting of the three principals, especially Anisa Ismaili who says virtually nothing the entire film, to the cinematography of Menduh Nushi and Qosja's blended senses of humor and tragedy, "Kukumi" has more soul than a whole decade of films created by far better-funded directors with international reputations. One note: Make sure that you see the "uncensored" version. A recent showing in Pristina, Kosovo, featured a cut to one major plot point, and it left the film making no sense whatsoever. That's not so much shameful as it is artistically criminal.

A wonderful microcosm of how mentally challenged people try to get by in a society that has no place for them, as it itself is struggling to reconstitute after a collapse caused by war.

The cinematography feels intimate yet distant. It gives us points of view ranging from the fleeing Serbian occupiers to the returning Albanian refugee villagers.

Dialog is at a minimum. The movie, however, speaks volumes. We are left to bare with the uncomfortable silence, which makes the narrative even more powerful.

The chaotic jumble between scenes reflects the nature of the characters. Do not expect a happy ending.

Once upon a time there was a repression that nobody was able to hear about. There were people who were suffering.. and nobody heard their voice. This movie shows exactly what happened after years of repression and years of suffering to an innocent nation in Kosova, place which only a few people know about. As the movie shows.. a group of civilian people were held in place as 'prisoners of war' by the Serbian military. As soon as the Kumanovo agreement takes place, the Serbian guards leave the place and the group of people that get the freedom which they would never enjoy. The consequences of the tortures that had previously been done to them were very bad.. all the people remained with mental disorders. Kukumi, one of the main characters of the movie, is a homeless guy, whose only asset is a flute which he used to make music when he would feel down. Hasan is a young guy, whose parents die in the war and his older brother turns the back to him once he comes back to his house. And Mara is a young and beautiful homeless girl that has nothing in her life. Kukumi and Hasan fall in love with Mara. Although they would never be able to make their dream true, both of them show that they do have feelings although their brain no longer lives the real life. Kukumi, Hasan and Mara hang around the place where they used to be held but the such awaited freedom for them meant nothing. Their world remained so small, their vision would never be as before. At the end Kukumi continues his endless journey to nowhere... while Hasan and Mara go back to the place where they used to be held.. because that was the only place they felt 'comfortable' at. This is a real masterpiece of the director Isa Qosja and great credit to Luan Jaha, Donat Qosja and Anisa Ismaili for a tremendous display. This movie has already won two festivals in Balkans and could yet have another word to say in the future. This movie has also been the first production of Kosova's film company "KosovaFilmi" in the post war era here in Kosova. A great movie 10/10

"Kukumi" is a Kosovar movie. Kosova is a country-wannabe struggling to retain its national identity. After a 20-year hiatus, Kosovar cinematography is the last thing that has been paid attention at, after the war. Therefore, I can conclude that "Kukumi" is one good movie with an excellent potential to be completely forgotten within a short period of time. The movie is intrinsically flawed both in scene chronology and subject relevance,while Kukumi (the main character), is an innocent victim of die-hard direction that takes advantage of the metaphoric approach to come up with unspoken messages. Madmen and women are unleashed of an asylum the day the war in Kosova ceases. Kukumi, Mara and another guy are split from the herd to embark into an exhausting, nerve-wrenching, 2-hour journey which aims at the railway station and ends to nowhere. Yes, nowhere, at all! Kukumi (Luan Jaha, who is quite convincing) seems to be the "brainiest" of the three with his insightful, quirky questions he raises and stories he narrates. Dialogue is meandering, events are incoherently combined and the cast is laden with unfilled gaps of character history and vaguely defined relationships. There is a scene where the madmen go to a village and after they mingle together for a while, a man comes out of a car with a huge set of sunglasses for sale. Remember: it is a village with less than 100 people, inhabited by traditionally-clothed elderly and children who spend their life grazing cows. And this guy offers them sunglasses in the very wake of war, in a time when they all had to be hundreds of miles away living as refugees and bracing for a massive comeback. This is such an incoherence and disloyalty to the reality like the one the movie takes place in, and, as such, it is utterly unwarrantable. However, Kukumi is beautiful all along. Breathtaking panoramas slide in between scenes and directorial absurdities. Albanian flag is seen several times. Extras look very unfitting to the scenes. A Chinese "investor" speaks to the cheering crowds that have mysteriously repopulated the village, which, as suggested by an incinerated school, should have had the same fate as other devastated and deserted villages all over Kosova. The movie was financed by the Ministry of Culture and several other sources, which speaks of the movie's being a mere step to open doors for the future of Kosovar cinematography towards the unpaved path of a once-prosperous industry.