05/07/2024 - The Czech filmmaker discusses her tiny protagonist, whose family are convinced she is completely oblivious to the turmoil that’s ripping them apart – but they’re wrong

(© Film Servis Karlovy Vary)

It’s summer, but little Amálka (Mia Bankó) is worried. She keeps hearing whispers and muted complaints from her parents and her grandparents. They are convinced she is completely oblivious to the turmoil that’s ripping the family apart, but she notices much more than they think. Beata Parkanová breaks down her Karlovy Vary Crystal Globe Competition entry Tiny Lights [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Beata Parkanová
film profile].

Cineuropa: You really commit to telling the whole story from this child’s perspective. It can’t have been easy.
Beata Parkanová: I didn’t want to have a “child protagonist”; it wasn’t my plan. She’s a human being who just happens to be a six-year-old. I think it really makes all the difference because adults tend to look down on children; they don’t see them as their equals sometimes. In this family, in this film, they are all equal.

When you are a child, sometimes you feel like nobody sees you. Your parents are hiding away the truth. When I was writing the script, which was the hardest part of making this film, I kept making mistakes. I was looking at things from her parents’ perspective, and for the longest time, I couldn’t access the feelings I was looking for. It got so much better when I “switched” to her entirely. Suddenly, I wasn’t telling her story – she was.

Was it hard to find her?
I got very, very lucky. When I was making my previous film, The Word [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Beata Parkanová
film profile], I actually cast her sister. They came to the audition together, so I remembered Mia. We were so afraid with the producers that we wouldn’t be able to find this girl, someone who would be able to carry this entire film. We were worried that it would take us years! Then she popped back into my mind. I said: “It’ll be her.” It was like receiving a gift, and I am perfectly aware of that.

Mia couldn’t just be herself in this film; she needed to act. At first, I didn’t know I would get that close to her with the camera. It was a risk to base the whole story around this little girl. We had some wide shots, and coming into the editing room, I had them as a backup. Then we found out we didn’t need them at all, and yes, it was surprising – also for the actors and for my producers.

You are right – she really carries the film. But it’s also a story about this whole family. Especially about her mother, trying to find her own freedom.
It may seem selfish or hurtful, but she finally manages to say what she wants and what she doesn’t want. For every one of us, our mother is the most important person in our life. This girl doesn’t know she is already losing hers, but she can sense it. This loss is overshadowing the entire day. I didn’t want to make the adults in the film good or bad; I wanted them to have their own truth and their own struggles. This is the day when Amálka matures because she stops depending on her mum so much.

Amálka’s grandmother thinks motherhood is the most important thing in life – Amálka’s mother, her daughter, doesn’t agree. These are two extreme choices: either you sacrifice yourself for a child or you have to leave.
These women have a very different way of looking at things and how life should be. But the outcome is clear: Amálka is left alone. It would have been different if any of these people had stayed with her for a while, given her a hug and just made her feel safe. If they’d said: “No matter what happens, you are loved.” But they don’t do that. Who can, when they are dealing with a serious crisis? Thinking about others, about comforting them, is the last thing on your mind. It’s sad, but this girl is still reaching for life at the end, and that’s hopeful to me. She remains curious.

Every once in a while, you show little snippets and blurry close-ups. These scenes feel like fragmented memories – something very fleeting.
For me, these memories were always red. We talked a lot about this colour when we were shooting. These are “emotional” memories; they aren’t rational. Some things are already being written into Amálka’s life and her character, but she doesn’t know it yet. She doesn’t know what they are. It happens to all of us. We all experience things – we can’t explain what they do to us right away, but we can feel them.