52 Films by Women Vol 10. 19. SURVIVING EARTH (Director: Thea Gajić)
When we first meet
Vlado, he is in his element, playing harmonica in a Bristol club in a band with
two friends, colleagues at a drug counselling centre. A former heroin addict,
Vlado spends his days supporting individuals who have not yet renounced drugs. He
recommends to a young woman that she sign up for a needle exchange programme,
to have clean needles delivered to a safe address. The woman tells him that she
does not use in front of family members; it is implied that she has a child. Vlado
writes songs in Serbian, performed by his English friend, who learns them
phonetically. He is visited by his impressionable artist daughter, Maria (Olive
Gray), who draws a picture of him, then takes it away to finish it. Maria and
her mother, Michelle (Ann Ogbomo) live in London. Vlado would like to rekindle his
relationship with Michelle, but she is having none of it.
Although he lives a
cash-based, hand-to-mouth existence, Vlado impresses us with his positive
philosophy. ‘All you need in life are three things,’ he tells Maria, ‘something
to do, someone to love and something to look forward to.’ After performing –
his group is a support band – Vlado doesn’t want to watch the main act, even
though Maria urges him to stay. Instead, he yearns to be a headliner. He plans his
band’s own gig under the name ‘Balkan Express’. The biggest stumbling block is
a venue. Vlado cajoles his band members for a contribution, then calls a venue.
‘£1,080 including VAT?’ he repeats. ‘Pencil it in, we’ll get back to you.’
Vlado has no means
to raise that kind of money. He has outstanding rent due to the council and –
we discover much later – is threatened with an under-occupancy charge; his
daughter no longer occupies his second bedroom. His family back in Serbia pressure
him on a video call. They want money too – 30,000 dinar (around £230),
ostensibly for a phone bill ‘and some other things.’ Vlado’s brother learned
all about British culture from the television situation comedy, ‘Only Fools and
Horses’, which conflates Peckham with Walworth (not the same place). Vlado
invites abuse when he says that he cannot help. He does however have £10 to
give a homeless ex-soldier with a dog. ‘Should you be doing that?’ asks Maria.
Happily, another
Balkan émigré comes to the rescue in the form of Zlatan (Toni Gojanović), who
offers to secure the group a venue on more favourable terms. The place isn’t
exactly what Vlado hoped for, and Zlatan, who has an English girlfriend,
rankles him by suggesting that he enjoyed fighting for Serbia back in the day; Bosnian
Serbs killed over 100,000 during the so-called Bosnian Genocide (1992-1995) in
a campaign to ‘cleanse’ Bosnia of non-Serbs, following the break-up of
Yugoslavia (1990-92). Vlado rejects this. He respects soldiers but not wars. The
film takes place ‘pre-Covid’, suggesting that Vlado was little more than a
teenager when he held a weapon.
Vlado is felled by
temptation. While he turns down alcohol, he can’t help but attract the
attention of a drug dealer in the men’s room of a club. Dealers perceive hunger
in the eyes of addicts, current and former. We wonder whether Vlado will attack
the dealer for daring to approach him, but he doesn’t. Gajić chooses
authenticity over manufactured drama.
Pictured: Vlado (Slavko Sobin, left) and colleagues in a scene from the Bristol-set drama, 'Surviving Earth', written and directed by Thea Gajić. Still courtesy of Metis Films (UK)
In the end, Vlado is
compromised by a harmonica, which he initially gives to Maria, encouraging her
to blow into it, then has it with him while he is in a club. The band has just
performed and Vlado decides to celebrate, a somewhat out of character gesture.
He is approached by Stella (Rosa Escoda), who gets frisky with him. The
harmonica ends up on the dance floor and is stepped upon. Vlado takes it to be
repaired but cannot afford the £50 deposit. The repairer sees something in
Vlado’s eyes; he too was a former addict and accepts a deposit of £30. ‘Do you
know of any local meetings?’ Vlado asks.
The damage to
Vlado’s harmonica is matched by Vlado’s self-destructive behaviour, getting
drunk and alienating Maria, who does not want to speak to him. Vlado brings her
flowers, but Maria’s boyfriend answers the door. Michelle is also there. ‘Give
her time,’ she tells him.
Vlado’s ‘something
to look forward to’ passes him by when he finds that he cannot rehearse in
front of Zlatan. The gig, which got 400 likes on social media, is cancelled.
His colleague no longer speaks to him at work. Then he takes a call from the
Council. An official tells him he must find somewhere else to live.
We empathise with
Vlado as he moves into a spare room with the ex-soldier’s dog in tow. Noise
outside keeps him awake. His final lapse, having recourse to the jars of cash
that he keeps by his bed, is sudden as it is unexpected. This movie gives
meaning to living ‘a stone’s throw’ from narcotic drugs.
Gajić is careful not
to depict Vlado as a victim, crushed by a society that doesn’t see him as a
person. His friends can only support him so far. His daughter can’t always mask
her fear. We wonder why Vlado doesn’t try to start another romantic
relationship. We conclude that he knows himself all too well. He has inflicted
enough heartbreak on others.
I would have welcomed
a coda in which the homeless ex-soldier reclaims his dog and learns something
from Vlado’s story. Gajić is not that kind of filmmaker. In the end, she can’t
distance herself from her subject. Her director of photography, Olan Collardy,
ensures that her film rises above bleak social realism. There’s more richness
in the colours than is usually seen in bleached-out British cinema.
Reviewed at The Garden Cinema, Parker Street, Covent Garden, Central London, Thursday 30 April 2026, 15:45 screening
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