Slovak director Iveta Grofova She says she became fascinated by one of the darkest periods in her country’s recent past when she read Peter Kristufek’s book “Emma and the Skull,” which tells the story of Marika, a Hungarian widow who takes in a young Jewish boy in her home.
Set near the Hungarian border during World War II in the Nazi puppet state of Slovakia, the novel adopts the image of the skull moth – whose pattern mirrors the very skull adopted by the Nazi SS – to force readers to confront a period that Grofova says most Slovaks would rather forget.
She says this was part of the appeal of adapting the film for the big screen, but what really interested her was Marika’s perspective and the impossible choices she would be faced with. Thus, “The Hungarian Dressmaker,” as she titled her film, which is being screened in the main competition, the Crystal Globe, at the Karlovy Vary Film Festival, switches the point of view of the hidden child to that of his protector.
“I was drawn to the theme of the emergence of the Slovak state in times of war,” says Grofova. “It is a very dark childhood in my country, something that Slovaks have not yet managed to come to terms with.”
As Marika, who works for a Jewish tailor, finds herself out of work at a time when everything is in short supply and state police thugs are taking valuables (and suspicious residents) from every house they try to enter, Marika faces existential threats from the opening moments of Grofova’s film.
Producer Zuzana Mistríkova, director Iveta Grofova and producer Ondrej Trojan.
Marika, already grieving the loss of her husband and left to run the family farm alone, is unprepared to learn that a Jewish child is hiding in her home, a sin for which they will both likely lose their lives. As a Hungarian woman, Marika sees firsthand how that ethnicity is being wiped out along with the Jewish residents, each turned against the other, making their existence even more dangerous – and it doesn’t help matters that a high-ranking local official has taken an interest in her.
“When I first read the book, I was pregnant,” says Grofova. “Maybe that’s why I identified so strongly with the character of the Hungarian widow Marika. What could I do in her place at the cost of my own safety for someone else’s child? What contradictions and dilemmas did she have?”
Grofova achieves a moody style and minimalist tone in “The Hungarian Dressmaker,” especially in its montage sequences involving macro lens shifts that lend an otherworldly quality to Marika’s dilemmas, making masterful use of cinematographer Martin Strba.
“The camera is the co-narrator of feelings and emotions in this film,” he says. “At the same time, the stylized imaginative image helps me suggest the metaphor of the constant presence of life and death, good and darkness, Emma and the Skull in us.”
Grofova relies heavily on the actor Alexandra Borbely To bring it to life, with many scenes focusing on her often unspoken pain, fear and determination, the director says she felt inclined to cast the Hungarian-Slovakian stage actress in the role, which is only her third on screen.
“Alexandra is a great actress,” says the director. “I had no doubt that she would be up to this demanding task. Throughout the collaboration I felt that she understood my specific way of directing. I think that in the final scene she gave her best, both physically and mentally, and I am very grateful to her for that.”
Borbely’s ability to alternate between the pastiche of languages, cultures and traditions of the period was essential, says Grofova, in helping audiences understand the tensions faced by ethnic Hungarians in Slovak lands during the war.
“This was very important to me. I wanted to portray as authentically as possible the multicultural character of the capital of Slovakia and its outskirts on the border between Slovakia and Hungary. Slovaks do not like to realize that their roots are ethnically very diverse and that excessive nationalism is contrary to our true history.”
The film’s setting also helps it transcend time, evoking the smallness of its miserable world, filled with period details.
“Fortunately, we found the main location for Marika’s house in the authentic surroundings of a Slovak village, which until now was inhabited mainly by Hungarians.”
Grofova’s main challenge, she says, was “to show the characters’ actions from the point of view they might have had back then. Not from the point of view we have today, when we can allow ourselves to moralize and judge the past. Only through history presented in this way can we discover parallels with our behavior in the present. If I succeeded at least a little, I will be satisfied.”
Watch the trailer here.