Writer and Director Nebojsa Slijepcevic talks about Palme d’Or Winning short film ‘The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent’ which has recently been considered for an Oscar!

Over 30 years ago, Yugoslavia, which consisted of 6 republics – Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, Montenegro and Macedonia crumbled, the rise of ethno nationalism disbanding the six nations gradually post 1991, with each republic gaining independence and devastation resulting in the loss of lives. Bosnia and Herzegovina the victims of ethnic cleansing impacting the Bosnian Muslim population. Drawing on this harrowing part of the nation’s history, writer and Director Nebojsa Slijepcevic presents The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent, a short film based aboard a passenger train in 1993, travelling from Belgrade to Bar when tragically intercepted by paramilitary forces in an ethnic cleansing operation. The film focusing particularly on a man who ‘could remain silent’ or speak up against the autrocity. Currently shortlisted as an Oscar contender, Nebojsa tells us more about exploring this subject matter further and what he’s learned from creating the film.

Hi Nebojsa, your Palme d’Or winning short film The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent has recently been announced as a 2025 Oscars contender. How are you feeling?

Pretty good. Relaxed. For any filmmaker, the most important thing is having their film seen and talked about. Our film is getting a lot of attention worldwide, and that’s all I could hope for.

The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent is based on a devastating event that took place in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1993, when a passenger train travelling from Belgrade to Bar was intercepted by paramilitary forces in an ethnic cleansing operation. The film focusing particularly on a man who ‘could remain silent’ or speak up against the autrocity. How have you found exploring this difficult subject matter further?

While researching the event, I read over a thousand pages of testimonies, interviews, and newspaper articles. I knew the film would be seen by people who lived through the event—either by being on the train themselves or being related to the victims. The last thing I wanted was to retraumatise anyone by misrepresenting what happened. The very first thing I did, even before writing the script, was contact the son of the main character in the film, Tomo Buzov, to ask for his permission to make the film. Without Darko Buzov’s consent, I wouldn’t have made this film.

That said, I don’t see this as a history lesson. For me, it’s a film about a universal situation—one we can all relate to in some way.

The film is written and directed by yourself, stars Dragan Micanovic, Goran Bogdan and Alexis Manenti, with cinematography crafted by Gregor Bozic. How have you all worked together to realise the film?

For months before production started, I spent hours and hours talking to everyone. Our main approach was all about reduction: reducing the number of lines spoken, dialing down the intensity of reactions, and cutting down the number of shots. In the end, we managed to create a quiet, almost minimalistic film, and I’m very proud of that.

What have you learned/taken away from creating the film?

I knew some things before, but this film proved them again. First, less is more. Every reduction we made made the film stronger. Second, good things take time. I worked on this film for more than two years. Every decision was thought through multiple times. But still, we had some unexpected challenges when it came to shooting. An elderly actor with a small role got sick two days before filming, and we couldn’t find the right replacement in such a short time, so I had to do some rewrites on the fly and improvise on the shooting day. Which brings me to the third lesson: no matter how much you prepare, there will always be something you didn’t anticipate. But, paradoxically, it’s that preparation that puts me in a state of mind where I can improvise and handle whatever comes my way.

What can viewers expect from the film?

A short but intense experience. We aimed to create a film that grabs you from the very first moment and keeps building tension all the way to the end. Based on what I’ve read in Letterboxd reviews, it seems we’ve largely succeeded in achieving that.

What would you like for viewers to take away from the film?

If I were to abstract it to the extreme, I’d say this film explores one of the many paradoxes of human experience. So often in life, there isn’t a “right” answer—whatever you choose is wrong, yet you still have to make a choice and live (and die) with it. For me, this film is a small existential meditation on the absurdity of human existence.

Interview by Lucy Basaba.