10/07/2025 - At Karlovy Vary, the Slovenian director is screening his delicate and moving short about a transient world and two people who make a brief connection

In the short film Greek Apricots, Mak, a young man working the night shift at a petrol station, encounters Nada, a female truck driver. They bond over shared backgrounds and – amidst a space in which transience and shift are the norm – a connection between the two is made.

This subtle and quietly emotional piece of work is the latest film by Ljubljana-born Jan Krevatin, who is an MA Film & TV Directing student at the Academy of Dramatic Arts in Zagreb, Croatia. After already screening at a number of festivals, the film is on show at EFP’s Future Frames as part of the 59th Karlovy Vary.

Cineuropa:  What was the inspiration behind the film?
Jan Krevatin: It started with me observing the petrol station at night as a kind of microcosm. It has this strange, quiet atmosphere – truck drivers spending nights in their temporary homes in tiny cabins, people speaking different languages, coming from different places, all sharing a space for a very short time. I began doing research and spoke to a man who had worked at petrol stations for over 20 years. Through him, I started to understand the rhythm of that world – a mix of strangeness, humour, melancholy and roughness. As he told me about his experience working there, it struck me that, unlike most of the people passing through, he was the one who was always there. From that, I created two characters: a petrol-station attendant, stuck in the monotony of everyday life, and a truck driver, far from home, who stops for just one night before continuing her journey.

Do you find the short-film medium a difficult one to work in, trying to find the right tone and balance in a short amount of time?
There’s a lot that plays out beneath the surface of what’s actually being said or shown in the image. I know it might sound commonplace, but I hold this very dear to my heart – that it should be up to each viewer to decide how they interpret what they’re seeing. I tried to complement that approach with a more restrained directorial style, using long, wide takes that allow the viewer’s eye to wander around the frame, and dense conversations that leave space to pick out what feels meaningful for understanding the relationship on screen. I think what’s important in any film, regardless of style or genre, is that multiple things are happening at the same time, in order to avoid one-dimensional readings.

How did you go about casting the film?
There’s a lot of chit-chat between the two main characters, Mak and Nada, so I looked for great actors who seemed quick-witted but also had a “thinking” face, like something else was going on underneath, as all that chatting is underlined by a feeling of melancholy. What mattered to me in terms of chemistry was that, when watching them act, I could feel a genuine interest between Mak and Nada as characters, like they were really trying to connect, however clumsily. Mak Tepšić, who plays the lead, is my best friend – we played handball together as kids, went to the same secondary school and made our first film there. I basically wrote the part for him.

For the character of Nada, Labina Mitevska was the first actress I contacted. I’d seen her in quite a few films and really admired her work. I sent her an email with a short logline of the plot, which she found interesting. Soon after, Mak and I drove to Skopje, where we spent a week rehearsing. Once we started working, she proved to be the best possible choice – she has great concentration and works with incredible attention to detail.

How was it shooting the film?
The shooting of the film was great, but not without its challenges. We had seven consecutive night shoots and had to adjust to a completely new bio-rhythm. It was a long stretch, but it gave us the time and space to try things, and I’m really grateful that it was possible to improvise when needed.

Securing a location for the shoot, on the other hand, hit us hard. The biggest petrol station chain in Slovenia, with which we had arranged and planned everything, denied us permission just five days before shooting was about to commence. With the crew already arriving from different countries, we had to find a new location overnight. Luckily, we managed to secure a privately owned petrol station as the main location for the film, which came as a huge relief, as we were on the brink of cancelling everything.

What project is next for you?
I’m currently preparing to shoot my new short film, titled The Chimneysweep’s Carnival, this September, and at the same time, I’m half-way through writing my first feature.