Martin Pavol Repka • Director of March to May
“What I like about slow cinema is that it gives a certain value to time in film and its passing”
- Cineuropa chats to the debuting director about his film’s form, the influences behind his style and his take on slow cinema
Slovak-born, Czech-based emerging filmmaker Martin Pavol Repka has introduced his feature debut, March to May [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Martin Pavol Repka
film profile], in the Proxima competition of the Karlovy Vary IFF. In it, he employs the principles of slow cinema to delve into the nuanced, everyday life of a family facing the unexpected news of a late-in-life pregnancy. We sat down with Repka to discuss the movie’s form, the influences behind his style and his take on slow cinema.
Cineuropa: March to May offers an intimate portrayal of a family dealing with unexpected news. Can you discuss what drew you to this story and how you approached capturing the subtleties of everyday family life?
Martin Pavol Repka: When I was 15, my mother became unexpectedly pregnant, and our family eagerly awaited the new arrival. The presence of someone not yet physically in this world but already taking root in our hearts and minds led me to explore this experience through film. Writing the movie, I realised it needed to be truthful and lived, not just imagined. I delved into my memories, developing an “automatic writing” technique, capturing thoughts without filters. To reflect everyday life's subtleties, I eliminated any dramatic effects, focusing mainly on authenticity.
Your directing style is notable for its patience and contemplative rhythm. How and why did you develop this style?
March to May is a film about the unseen – no visible signs of pregnancy are present. This posed a challenge: how to capture the invisible? Each scene is approached as valuable, worth creating and worth transferring to the screen – even things as simple as everyday arrivals or departures. Deciding which scenes make the final cut depends on the wider picture, but each one deserves exploration. This principle involves a lot of waiting and preparing for the right moment. Despite seeming patient, I’m more of a believer in the process.
March to May is set in a rural village, which plays a significant role in the film's atmosphere. Religion is also present. How important were the setting and religion to your storytelling in this case?
I grew up in a small village, in a religious family, so this was something I knew very well. The type of landscape, with never-ending flat fields and windbreaks typical for the western part of Slovakia, shaped me intensely. In the case of religion, I wanted it to be as normal a part of the characters' lives as eating together or evening talks in the bedroom. At least, that is the way I remember it from my childhood. I noticed there aren’t many contemporary films portraying religion in this way. There always needs to be a conflict or some form of questioning. Although I think those films are important, I wanted to make a movie where religion, and mostly faith, just is. It doesn’t play any socio-political role; it is simply an ordinary part of my characters’ life.
The film deviates from current Czech and Slovak cinema, even from the work of the more experimental generation of young filmmakers, in terms of its form. Why did you opt for a minimalist, slow-burning drama?
March to May is about five characters who live together under the same roof, and what is most interesting about them is that they try every day not to hurt each other. It doesn’t mean everything is always sunny, but they really try their best to maintain mutual respect and acceptance. This setting is quite different from typical “family drama” films. Not having to deal with narrative conflict freed me and left me focused on those moments that were mundane because I consider them much more valuable than the big events in life.
Your film resembles the works that are part of the movement and aesthetics of slow cinema. In local cinema, the film would be closest to Václav Kadrnka’s poetics. Has slow cinema been an influence on you?
I’m a big fan of slow cinema, so naturally, I draw some inspiration from it, but I think my style is evolving from multiple sources and different traditions. To be honest, the closest to my heart is Italian master Ermanno Olmi, and especially The Tree of Wooden Clogs was my favourite film during the preparations for March to May.
The films I aim to make differ greatly from those of Václav Kadrnka. Despite thematic similarities, the formal aspects are distinct. My film lacks the transcendental elements found in Kadrnka’s films. March to May focuses on simple observation and imitating reality, unlike his aesthetically stylised films. My actors strive for authenticity, contrasting with the Bresson-like, stylised figures in Kadrnka’s work.
Reflecting on your experience with March to May, how do you see your use of formalism and slow cinema evolving in your future projects?
What I like about slow cinema is that it gives a certain value to time in film and its passing. But I feel that is only one type of quality the film medium has. I don’t see myself delving further into this field, as I feel it has been explored thoroughly enough. I still like a certain kind of narrativity in films, which I hope to master, blending some of the characteristics of slow cinema with a more narrative approach.
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