Licenciado Mxje

Underground

Picture yourself watching the TV 6-hour cut of this.

Mauritto

Underground

Pensar que no la quería ver y mi vieja me obligó, gracias mamá

nathansnook

Underground

Peak absurdism so closely tied to socio-political Yugoslavia that it knows no bounds from slapstick humor to dire drama. It's a gargantuan project that opens up as wide as possible until it feels like a film that never ends. The last moments of the film are the zaniest, poetic pangea that removes body from state, body from body, and demands of us what it means to be a country. I think a lot more could be said about the film, but my history of Serbia is limited. It's a film that feels so personal. It's a film that can only joke about itself because it's about its own people who only know the hurt they were born with. Tremendous and incredibly wild.

nathansnook

Underground

The subconscious murmurs depths incomprehensible in tangible touch. What I feel cannot be held. What I want cannot be needed. It’s hard to find some sort of ground beneath foundations laid beneath me centuries before. I often wonder how far down my depression goes. If I able to eat or move. Sometimes I cannot. I stay in bed, my eyes locked to a blankness as thoughts go stir-crazy in me, and this goes on, in chaotic silence, until I have to piss or shit. I can go days without eating, when it gets really bad. But at some point, my limbs begin to ache from inactivity. One must reach out to the sun, collect air in the lungs, find some kind of pace or rhythm to keep up with the rest of the world, and that’s perhaps why I feel so alien at times. Because the song in my head is much different than the one I have to hear outside, and it’s these constant ongoings that make it really hard to even focus on what people are saying, doing, comprehending.