29/01/2026 - The two directors trace the moving story of a mother and daughter on the Montenegrin mountain of Sinjajevina, where the political and the intimate are innately intertwined

Shot over seven years, Biljana Tutorov and Petar Glomazić’s To Hold a Mountain [+see also:
film review
interview: Biljana Tutorov, Petar Glom…
film profile] tells the highly intimate story of a mother and daughter (Mileva “Gara” Jovanović and Nada Stanišić) set against the backdrop of the northern Montenegrin mountain of Sinjajevina. The two practise transhumance, a type of pastoralism carried out in Montenegro that involves the seasonal migration of livestock between mountains and lowlands.

As Gara and Nada are threatened by patriarchal forces around them, Sinjajevina, too, is under fire. State-led interest in turning the mountain into a military training zone bloomed after Montenegro joined NATO in 2017. Gara is one of the leaders of a community movement to protect, and to hold, that very mountain.

The film has just enjoyed its world premiere in the Sundance World Cinema Documentary Competition. Cineuropa spoke to the directors to explore their approach to telling this story – and allowing their subjects to lead that process.

Cineuropa: How did you first become acquainted with the story behind the film, from all angles?
Biljana Tutorov: Petar is from Montenegro, I’m from the region, and we are that movement. Petar and Gara are two people who have represented the community internationally as pillars of this fight. We knew the place through this tradition of transhumance that they are practising. When Montenegro joined NATO, the stakes suddenly rose. Sinjajevina is the second-biggest European pastureland at that altitude. We didn’t know Nada and Gara’s intimate story at that time, but it was obvious there was something there. We were intrigued by Gara’s personality, as she immediately took a leadership role. She was very empowered by our process, and everyone quickly understood she was comfortable in front of the camera.

Petar Glomazić: We connected very early on like a family and fought, for many years, together with the local community to protect this land. We spent a lot of time together in many different situations, which opened the door for us to be patient and wait for real life to happen in front of the camera. We know how hard it is to catch real moments and that tiny truth of life.

You portray scenes high up on the mountain as Nada and Gara look for a cow in addition to some very intimate moments between the two. What was your approach to capturing these sequences, which are extreme in different ways?
BT: We had a lot of shooting days, maybe between 250 and 300, but very few shooting hours. We were helping them look for that cow for several days because the fog was thick and Gara knew she was giving birth. We wanted to leave some traces of our presence, and that was on purpose – like several glances towards the camera. It’s our take on this “religion” of cinéma vérité. Likewise, the music is not there to underline emotions but instead acts almost like the voice of the mountain.

PG: We were aware that we had enough elements to tell the story and avoid asking any questions or interviewing them. We were patient enough to allow life to happen. This was also in accordance with our ethical attitude.

It’s an interesting way to hand agency back to your subjects, rather than remain complacent as documentarians.
BT: We realised that maybe Gara cast us instead of us casting her. She was probably intuitively also looking for ways to give Nada the best possible outcome from memories of violence. We thought this place was calling out for a film, but we knew from the very first moment that it wouldn’t be an activist film. When we learned that [Nada’s father] was about to be released from prison, we didn’t think we would include this part in the movie. There is a taboo around violence – people are ashamed when they have murders in the family. Femicide is a really big problem in Montenegro, but also worldwide. Taboo is a big part of our cultures, and it heavily informed our process. However, when we spoke with Gara and said that it was maybe too intimate, she responded, “No, I need to share this story.” I think this was her way to try to emancipate her family, and this is when we understood how much of a genius she is.

The intergenerational aspect ties together humans and nature, and the matriarchal throughline in the film becomes very clear by the end. As Gara says, “The mountain is my mother.”
PG: In the transhumance tradition, which is alive and well in Montenegro but rare across the world, the high mountains are the places of women and children – and they’re very important. Through the centuries, it was the backbone of the Montenegrin economy. This film shows that way of life, which is very old – but at the same time, Gara and Nada are totally integrated into modern society.