How do you see short film? What does it mean to you? 

A short film is when I write a script, then I get my friend-o-colleagues and we go and shoot it and we’re happy. Then we go into the editing room for about nine months and there’s a lot of swearing, then we make up and go out and shoot 15 more takes for a single scene. Then we go back to the editing room and Jan Klemsche harasses us with his country music.   

Why does short film matter? What are its greatest strengths and virtues? 

It matters if you want to pursue filmmaking, because it is the first step, in a sense (not a necessary one, but it might come in handy). Its virtue is its length, but it can also be its fault.  

What is your favorite short film and why?

João Salaviza’s 2009 short Arena. He depicted the mechanism of violence (which I find intriguing on film) in such a simple, yet sublime way. He uses sparse dialogue and striking visuals to deliver a strong punch. Making this happen in such a limited window of opportunity is really extraordinary. From a private, mundane situation, he manages to draw attention to the true values in life and distil a universal message. 

Your latest film Antiotpad had its world premiere at this year’s Sarajevo Film Festival where it won the Heart of Sarajevo for best short film. Congratulations!  

Thank you! And kudos to the entire cast and crew! 

Tell us a bit more about the film and the process of making it. Where will we be able to see it next? 

Filip Romac came to me with an anecdote that happened to him over the summer in Zagreb (there is a scene in the film that was shot exactly the way it happened, at the same spot, only with actors. I can’t say any more because Romac might get into trouble). After that, we wrote the script, submitted the film with Tena Gojić and Dora Prpić as producers, shot it with Bernard Tomić and Roman Sem-Tuskar, and edited it with Jan Klemsche, who also helped us with the script in the postproduction phase. Unfortunately, I don’t know where it will be shown next, festivals can really be the luck of the draw.  

Two of your films, Komba (2011) and Manjaca (2014), are available at out platform for free viewing. Both films screened at various renowned national and international festivals and have earned you recognitions such as the Jelena Rajković Award for best director under the age of 30 at Croatian Film Days and the Golden Pram for best film in the Zagreb Film Festival Checkers program.   

That is correct. Awards are great. 

Can you tell us a bit more about them? What did the success of these films mean for you personally, and what impact did it have on you as a director and your career? 

I can’t really remember that period of my life very well, but I know that the ideas for both films came to me as powerful visualizations, which I later molded into something more concrete while I was writing the script. From the creative aspect, Jana Plećaš, Jan Klemsche and, of course, Matija Ferlin, Tibor Knežević and Kristijan Jaić were vital for these films. These were stories about growing up, about things from my surroundings, self-reflections, environments. My first attempts at filmmaking. 

Directors have big and fragile egos, which is why they need validation from others, especially if it comes in material form (because their souls are empty barrels) in order to keep doing what they do, which, truth be told, nobody cares about. But I’m different, I see my awards as a sign of gratitude of humanity at large and listen to their pleas to keep going, to keep changing the world for the better through my work. As my neighbor Mirko who owns an auto shop next door says, Ultimate Fighting Championship has Street Jesus, but Croatians have Film Jesus. Mirko is an alcoholic. 

Are you currently working on any new projects?

I am currently working on an experimental film. I hope I’ll come up with a decent idea for a feature film before I turn 40.