Seamstresses (Shivachki)
February 8th 2010 03:19
The big city corrupts. It’s a mantra to depend upon in stories like writer-director Lyudmil Todorov’s Seamstresses (2007), an understated drama of simple country girls venturing into a metropolis with dreams of escape. From poverty and despair in Popovo to Sofia, Bulgaria’s capital, these 20 year-olds arrive with the name of a contact in their back pocket, their ability to sew a lone calling-card. Misho (Julian Vergov) is no white knight however, only a slick opportunist, a dubious businessman used to deploying young innocents in menial job vacancies.
Initially he doesn’t know what to make of Dora (Aleksandra Surchadzhieva), Elena (Elen Koleva) and Katya (Violeta Markovska), a trio of ignorant blow-ins from the sticks, armed with ludicrous notions of plying their meagre trade for profit. He takes pity on Dora first, offering her a waitressing job before finding work for the other two carving steaks for a butcher. Fragile blonde Katya has a weak stomach however and Dora offers to take her place. Scrimping change, they manage to survive in a rented room provided by the kindly Inna (Gergana Stoyanova) and her bank-guard boyfriend, the glowering Valyo (Assen Blatechki).
It’s a difficult transition for the trio, struggling to equate the notions of a better life, innocently clung to, with the grim reality of what they encounter each day. Attempting to shrug off the constant cold and lack of interesting distractions, they find strength in Dora, their natural leader. It’s she who is alert to subtle shifts in behaviour and before long, she picks up on disturbing signs in Katya’s behaviour. Separated from the others, Katya becomes more resourceful than her frail persona of the early scenes would suggest. She adopts a blasé attitude to everything, wrapped up in her new-found freedom. Dora’s curiosity about where Katya ventures after-hours evolves into spying where she uncovers a worrying connection to Misho's extracurricular activities.
Inevitably their friendship becomes fractured as tensions increase. Dora demands an explanation from the increasingly secretive Katya about her heedless spending of the money they’ve struggled to accrue. A wedge forms between the pair, causing an acrimonious split. In time, all three will go their separate ways. Will the acute isolation break their spirits or help to strengthen their individual resolve?
Though some of his transitions between scenes are clumsy, Todorov is able to realistically portray the intrinsic bond that exists between these girls. As their connections are weakened by circumstance, genuinely wrenching moments emerge from the bleak context of their solitary struggles. Overly-sensitive to the alien surrounds of their urban environment, it’s never quite clear which of the young women will emerge as the strongest. It’s this unpredictability that really brings the film alive.
Ultimately a tale of hope, Seamstresses may be modest but it's loaded with redeeming features. Though the general through-line is a recognisable one, unique cultural elements come to hand, providing access to the sights and sounds of a country sadly under-represented in world cinema terms. This interesting slant on Bulgarian life largely negates what might be accused of as the story's generic universality.
The young actresses are all strong contributors, though it’s Koleva as the resilient Elena who shines brightest. Some of the humour may be slightly lost in translation but musician Zachari (Phillip Avramov) provides moments of absurdist humour as he tries to impress Elena, whose name he’s always getting wrong.
Admirably Todorov doesn’t cheapen his film with any sleazy, exploitative angle; the set-up seems tailor-made for such a scenario, but the central preoccupation of his story - a determinedly humanistic one - eschews sensationalist dimensions. But neither is this some unbalanced fairytale of yearnings eventually reaping reward for those desperate enough to succeed. The final scenes, resolving the fates of all three, fall somewhere in between. It's a very satisfying compromise that provides Seamstresses with some of its most moving moments.
Seamstresses will be screening on Saturday March 13 at Melbourne's ACMI (Australian Centre for the Moving Image) as part of their Windows on Europe season.
Initially he doesn’t know what to make of Dora (Aleksandra Surchadzhieva), Elena (Elen Koleva) and Katya (Violeta Markovska), a trio of ignorant blow-ins from the sticks, armed with ludicrous notions of plying their meagre trade for profit. He takes pity on Dora first, offering her a waitressing job before finding work for the other two carving steaks for a butcher. Fragile blonde Katya has a weak stomach however and Dora offers to take her place. Scrimping change, they manage to survive in a rented room provided by the kindly Inna (Gergana Stoyanova) and her bank-guard boyfriend, the glowering Valyo (Assen Blatechki).
It’s a difficult transition for the trio, struggling to equate the notions of a better life, innocently clung to, with the grim reality of what they encounter each day. Attempting to shrug off the constant cold and lack of interesting distractions, they find strength in Dora, their natural leader. It’s she who is alert to subtle shifts in behaviour and before long, she picks up on disturbing signs in Katya’s behaviour. Separated from the others, Katya becomes more resourceful than her frail persona of the early scenes would suggest. She adopts a blasé attitude to everything, wrapped up in her new-found freedom. Dora’s curiosity about where Katya ventures after-hours evolves into spying where she uncovers a worrying connection to Misho's extracurricular activities.
Inevitably their friendship becomes fractured as tensions increase. Dora demands an explanation from the increasingly secretive Katya about her heedless spending of the money they’ve struggled to accrue. A wedge forms between the pair, causing an acrimonious split. In time, all three will go their separate ways. Will the acute isolation break their spirits or help to strengthen their individual resolve?
Though some of his transitions between scenes are clumsy, Todorov is able to realistically portray the intrinsic bond that exists between these girls. As their connections are weakened by circumstance, genuinely wrenching moments emerge from the bleak context of their solitary struggles. Overly-sensitive to the alien surrounds of their urban environment, it’s never quite clear which of the young women will emerge as the strongest. It’s this unpredictability that really brings the film alive.
Ultimately a tale of hope, Seamstresses may be modest but it's loaded with redeeming features. Though the general through-line is a recognisable one, unique cultural elements come to hand, providing access to the sights and sounds of a country sadly under-represented in world cinema terms. This interesting slant on Bulgarian life largely negates what might be accused of as the story's generic universality.
The young actresses are all strong contributors, though it’s Koleva as the resilient Elena who shines brightest. Some of the humour may be slightly lost in translation but musician Zachari (Phillip Avramov) provides moments of absurdist humour as he tries to impress Elena, whose name he’s always getting wrong.
Admirably Todorov doesn’t cheapen his film with any sleazy, exploitative angle; the set-up seems tailor-made for such a scenario, but the central preoccupation of his story - a determinedly humanistic one - eschews sensationalist dimensions. But neither is this some unbalanced fairytale of yearnings eventually reaping reward for those desperate enough to succeed. The final scenes, resolving the fates of all three, fall somewhere in between. It's a very satisfying compromise that provides Seamstresses with some of its most moving moments.
Seamstresses will be screening on Saturday March 13 at Melbourne's ACMI (Australian Centre for the Moving Image) as part of their Windows on Europe season.
| 29 |
| Vote |











Add Comments





Comments (2)
Read More











