Debuting earlier this year in Berlin’s new Perspectives competition, Urška Djukić’s Little Trouble Girls [+leggi anche:
recensione
trailer
intervista: Urška Djukić
scheda film] won only the independent FIPRESCI Award, but it seemed to define why that section was introduced in the first place – it was an exemplar in a strand celebrating strong and artistically inclined debuts, delivering unique “perspectives” on our world. We’re inundated with coming-of-age movies by first-time directors, yet Little Trouble Girls benefits from unusually well-developed themes and visual schemas, following a Slovenian Catholic girls’ choir on an Italian field trip, and the competitiveness and growing sexual awareness of two choristers – one timid but resolute, the other more provocative. With wide international distribution in store following its festival run, the film goes on UK-Irish general release this week, a rarity for a movie from this region.

Cineuropa: What was the initial inspiration for the story?
Urška Djukić: It came when I heard a concert by a girls’ choir from a Catholic school for the first time. Their voices were so powerful, so full of emotion – I almost cried right there and then. There was something about hearing these young girls, right on the edge of becoming women, that felt incredibly strong and important, especially knowing how often female voices have been silenced throughout history. And I remember seeing three priests in the audience, just as moved as I was, and the whole situation struck me as unusual – patriarchal, celibate men listening to these voices that were radiating feminine energy. That image was so enigmatic, and I realised I had to explore further. I followed this choir for a while and observed them, and that became the seed for the script.

How did you build the narrative structure, seen through the group dynamic of the girls on their trip?
It was fascinating how the story grew out of the location itself. When we found the Ursuline monastery in Cividale del Friuli, where we later shot the film, I immediately felt a kind of guidance from the place. The space itself started telling me a story. Even the idea of workers renovating the monastery came directly from reality – when we arrived, the building was under heavy restoration. At first, I thought it would be impossible to film with all the scaffolding, noise and drilling, but then I realised it was actually perfect: a metaphor for breaking down rigid old structures and rebuilding them with fresh energy.

The vineyard by the monastery also inspired a key scene. While writing, I kept noticing the green, unripe grapes. One day, it struck me – if you eat them, you really suffer. That became a metaphor for self-punishment and guilt, and eventually turned into this playful yet central scene in the film.

The whole choir was another story, as we formed our own project-based choir. Most of the time, there were 30 girls on set, so that was challenging to direct, as I wanted to shoot the singing in real time to capture the reality of the choir rehearsal process.

Why was it important to bridge the coming-of-age story and the exploration of Catholicism and spirituality? And were you inspired by some of the great films about Catholic belief?
Growing up, I felt some kind of guilt about my own instincts but didn’t really understand why. Although my family was not strictly religious, my mother raised me in line with traditional Catholic ideas of what a “good girl” should be. Only later did I realise that these ideas, which deal with body image and sexuality, are rather rigid and clumsy. In my opinion, the concept of sinful sexuality and the general lack of education in this field are a subtle mechanism that cuts a person off from their own source of power. People who are deeply connected with their bodies are not easily led, as they trust their inner intuitive guidance more than external influences. In the film, Lucija [Jara Sofija Ostan] questions her inner, bodily feelings in contrast to general social norms and expectations, and ultimately, through a transcendental and cathartic experience of her body, decides what she will follow in her life.

What kinds of projects are you looking to develop next? And are you interested in continuing to work internationally?
Yes, definitely – I will continue with international collaboration. I’m developing a new project, with the working title Veronika of Desenice. The story is set in the 15th century in what is now Slovenia – then part of the Habsburg monarchy – and is based on a real historical tragedy: the first documented witch trial in “Slovenian” history. It follows the love story between Count Frederick II of Celje and his wife Veronika, who was accused of witchcraft by her powerful father-in-law. Veronika sought refuge in a Carthusian monastery, where she was allegedly protected by a monk named Prior Arnold. So, once again, my second film will be set in a monastery – only this time, a male one.