Hive, 2021.
Written and directed by Blerta Basholli.
Starring Yllka Gashi, Çun Lajçi, Aurita Agushi, Kumrije Hoxha, Adriana Matoshi, and Kaona Sylejmani.
SYNOPSIS:
Fahrije’s husband has been missing since the war in Kosovo. She sets up her own small business to provide for her kids, but as she fights against a patriarchal society that does not support her, she faces a crucial decision: to wait for his return, or to continue to persevere.
Blerta Basholli’s directorial debut Hive scooped up three awards at Sundance – the Audience and Directing Awards for World Cinema Dramatic, and the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize, Dramatic – and though its delivery is so pared down as to possibly undermine visibility with audiences, it’s tough to argue with a brilliantly stoic central performance from Yllka Gashi.
Basholli’s film is based on a true story, covering the fallout of the 1999 Velika Kruša massacre amid the Kosovo War, where the Serbian special police rounded up and killed up to 110 Kosovo Albanian men and boys. In the haunting opening scene, Fahrije (Gashi) is frantically checking body bags containing the newly unearthed remains of men killed in the massacre, hoping in vain to finally receive closure on the fate of her husband Agim, who was rounded up yet whose probable demise is still unconfirmed.
Now a single mother who has to care for not only her two children but also her elderly, infirm father-in-law – all of whom remain in denial about their father and son’s death – Fahrije attempts to sustain her family by making and selling ajvar, a popular Balkan condiment comprised primarily of roasted peppers.
But in a virulently patriarchal society where the place of the woman is at home with the children, unemployed, and even prohibited from driving, Fahrije’s industrious mission to make a living for herself and the other possibly-bereaved women of the village is met with increasing resistance.
Hive is concerned less with being a pointed political critique – to the extent that the perpetrators of the massacre are scarcely given any thought at all – but instead a quietly angry indictment of a society which seems to govern every aspect of a woman’s life. “Know your place,” Fahrije’s father-in-law tells her, speaking to both her status as a mother and as a woman, and so in a world where men gatekeep even the most basic means of employment, making and selling food becomes an aggressively defiant act.
Fahrije’s efforts result in loaded, piercing glances from the many men passing her by, and village gossip quickly gives way to actual physical attacks, namely a smashed car window – not to ignore the seemingly everyday threat of sexual assault.
Perhaps the most depressing illumination here is how these social dynamics strive also to turn women against one another, some of whom also consider Fahrije “mad” or a “whore.” It’s just another facet of a structure intended to dominate if not destroy women. Worse still, this feeds into enormous tensions between Fahrije and her family, who feel that taking up “the man’s role” is an act of erasure, of burying the man they called a father and son despite the lack of a body.
Basholli lays everything out incredibly simply throughout her film, where any potential “subtext” is pretty much just the text. There’s also little in the way of surprises here – the third act roadblock is exactly the one you’re expecting – yet Hive succeeds because of an exceptional lead performance and a director who knows just how to harness her.
Basholli’s aesthetic feels very much point-and-shoot – save for some mildly hokey dreamlike flashes to Fahrije’s husband floating in a river – and smartly trains much of her focus on Gashi’s face, which tells its own story even when she’s saying very little. Gashi ably sells Fahrije’s world-weariness, enough that the occasional smiles – when she first gets in a car, sells her first batch of ajvar to a local supermarket, and enjoys a celebratory dance with the women of the village – mean all the more through their scarcity.
Gashi is so outstanding here you might assume her to be a prolific-yet-underappreciated character actress getting her long-overdue coming-out party, yet this is actually only her seventh screen acting credit in 20 years – most of which are shorts or TV roles – and her first in an entire decade. She does a remarkable job depicting a woman maintaining grace under enormous pressure, struggling to close the door on one aspect of her life while opening another.
Gashi’s carefully modulated performance ensures the film is suffused with a substrata of raw anguish even though there’s barely a screaming tantrum or dramatic breakdown in sight. It speaks to the filmmaker’s clear desire to affect while not crowding the viewer with busy sentiment.
If a little light on dramatic punch and arguably straight-forward to a fault, Hive sustains interest thanks largely to Yllka Gashi’s transfixing performance.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Shaun Munro – Follow me on Twitter for more film rambling.
