Review: My Uncle Luben
- Nikola Boshnakov and Georgi-Jackie Stoev’s documentary follows a notorious band’s frontman, who inherits his late uncle’s bohemian apartment
Inheriting an apartment with peculiar décor in the Bulgarian capital of Sofia turns out to be an unexpected occasion for Ray van Zeschau, the vocalist of Dresden-based band Freunde der Italienischen Oper, to refresh his memories of his Bulgarian roots and rediscover his uncle, the unconventional painter and visual artist Luben Stoev. This might sound like an invitation to embark on an adventure with an unforeseen denouement, and indeed, such a premise for innocent fun doesn’t seem likely to delve into any serious topics. Or, if it does eventually get there, it might not necessarily be on purpose.
As Nikola Boshnakov, his co-director Georgi-Jackie Stoev – who happens to be Ray’s father and also appears in the film – and their peculiar characters peel back the layers of family affairs further, they inevitably start touching on themes such as Bulgarian-German camaraderie during the years of socialism and the ongoing Bulgarian transition from communism to democracy as well as its victims, who were Luben Stoev’s preferred subjects of artistic interpretation. Nevertheless, whatever political or social issues might pop up during this journey, ideological lenses are never imposed on the audience’s perception, since the auteurs behind the film are anything but preachy activists.
Currently partaking in the Central & Eastern European Competition of the 30th Astra Film Festival (15-22 October), My Uncle Luben [+see also:
trailer
interview: Nikola Boshnakov, Georgi-Ja…
film profile] jumps in the most natural way possible from private to public, from past to present, and from archival to freshly captured footage, letting life flow undisturbed in front of the camera while weaving in comic interconnections between events and people.
The narrative thread is led by storyteller Ray, who drip-feeds us the context via voice-over, while simultaneously inviting the audience to join him in a revealing exploration of his exotic Bulgarian relatives and heritage. Ending up in his uncle's unlit apartment in the middle of the night, after his father forgot to pay the electricity bill, he bumps into weird masks and figures of corpulent men with sunglasses, which, in the dark, hint at elements of a thriller. In the daylight, however, it becomes clear that some of these are souvenirs of Luben Stoev's endless travels around the world during times when the majority of Bulgarians didn’t have a passport, along with his cardboard sculptures depicting the heroes of the political transition: the self-made mafia bosses on one hand, and those in need of soup kitchens on the other – people who have become redundant in the new, capitalist system. Rare amateur footage from his trips and his parties at the eccentrically decorated flat further portrays him as a curious discoverer and generous bohemian who lived a rich life with little money; a modest artist who, as a graduate of the Dresden Academy of Arts, actually introduced a unique style to the Bulgarian art scene by creating expressionistic installations that drew on themes from Bertolt Brecht's epic theatre.
The great merit of this film is that it does not try to adapt its nature to enable it to be sold abroad, while the authenticity with which it reveals the details of the local environment does not get in the way of a universal story about this omnipresent, free artistic spirit who finds a way to express himself in any time and in any political system. This message is delivered smoothly and subtly, without any bold assertions, accompanied by some humorous editing and a cheerful and rhythmic soundtrack of ska, rock and immortal classics – some trademarks of Boshnakov’s cinema, recognisable from his early, self-produced short films and further developed in his current manner of filmmaking, regardless of whether he works together with Stoev or on his own.
My Uncle Luben was produced by Bulgaria’s Gala Film and Germany’s Four Elements.
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