The scariest thing is that there is a huge lack of understanding among the public as to why significant funds should be allocated to culture and why it is important. I have a favorite anecdote on the subject: Churchill was asked to divert funds from the cultural sector and redirect them to the military, to which he replied, “Then what will we fight for?”
Both in your filmography and in Bulgarian short and feature-length films, the stories of the marginalized often take center stage. Does Bulgarian short film foster tolerance, and is it powerful enough to draw attention to pressing social issues?
I don’t think cinema is capable of, or should even aim to, educate. What it does best is ask questions. For me personally, one of the big questions that has shaped my path as a screenwriter and director so far is: “What would it be like to be in this person’s shoes?” Not this group, not this community, but specifically this person, in these circumstances. And the more different they are from me, and the further removed from my life the events in theirs are—the more interesting it becomes. This is the superpower of cinema as an art form—better than any other before it, it puts you in someone else’s shoes for a while and erases the sense of the other person as a stranger, different from you. And what follows from that—that’s individual for every viewer, and viewers and reactions are as numerous as the grains of sand on the beaches.
You give the impression of someone who’s above it all, who doesn’t know what worry is, and yet you’re full of optimism. Is there anything that Orlin fears, but Attila doesn’t?
That’s an interesting impression, because I don’t feel that way at all. When working on a film, especially at the script and preparation stage, I’m filled with worries, anxieties, doubts, and nerves. Optimism is a world away from me; I usually imagine the worst-case, catastrophic scenario for the shoot and prepare for it. The truth is, I’m a pretty obsessive and controlling person, like most directors, I suppose, and there are so many aspects of a film that can go wrong that you could just go crazy. I’m certainly not detached from things—quite the opposite—I dive deep into them to explore and rearrange them as I see fit. In that sense, Orlin is afraid of failure in his directing work, while it’s much easier for Attila to be bold—he’s alone at the microphone and everything depends on him, and he’s already quite experienced.
What needs to change in the Bulgarian cultural sector so that the system starts working more effectively for artists and Bulgarian art as a whole?
If I knew, I’d be in politics or managing the sector. The problems are incredibly diverse and have no magic solution. They are inherited from previous models, purely administrative, and completely mundane, stemming from a lack of competent people. The principles for the distribution of funds are also a major and complex issue. The scariest thing is that there is a huge lack of understanding among the public as to why significant funds should be allocated to culture and why it is important. I have a favorite anecdote on the subject: Churchill was asked to divert funds from the cultural sector and redirect them to the military, to which he replied, “Then what will we fight for?”
Why is rebellion important to you?
For me, what matters is the idea of critical thinking and free will. This includes rebellion, of course, but more in the sense of the ability to change the circumstances you find yourself in, despite everything. There’s also a second aspect—rebelling, showing character and dissent, also involves taking responsibility for your actions. This, in turn, is the most direct and effective path, perhaps the only one, to some kind of growth and realizing who you really are. It is important to stand up for your right to say “no,” of course, while also bearing the cost of doing so. I have a favorite character by Herman Melville who responds to almost everything asked of him with the polite “I would prefer not to.” It seems to me that we need to remind ourselves that we have this right. Especially given the political situation in our country and the upcoming period of one-man rule, saying “no” and rebelling will be a matter of survival in many ways.
In light of the recent massive protests across the country, in which students from NATFA also made a strong impression, the question naturally arises: what is the role of public figures in such processes? Is it right, as citizens, to expect them to take a proactive stance, even when it might cost them dearly?
I don’t think we should expect that. It’s not something I consider mandatory. The fact that you’re involved in art in one form or another doesn’t mean you have to hold or share some kind of strong political or social stance. I know a bunch of artists who are completely confused about issues like the economy, reforms, education, or who are even extreme supporters of a certain political force or cause, to the point of idealization and blindness. But if you have a civic stance as an artist and it is informed, well-considered, and a result of your experience in your field, and if you can express it in some way through your talent and work—that can certainly provide a lot of emotional fuel for huge groups of people. That is also what makes it dangerous—you can easily mislead them. Emotion in these political processes is not always the best guide.
How do you view contemporary cinema on a national and global scale, and is there anything that really annoys you? Or something you’d like to see more of?
I can’t generalize about cinema as a whole; there are all kinds of films, just as there are all kinds of audiences for them. When it comes to big-budget mainstream cinema, the problem has always been a lack of narrative depth, one-dimensionality, clichés, and so on. Still, I think that over the past 15 years, high-quality Western series on streaming platforms have reached tens of millions of viewers with very interesting and complex stories, stylistic elements, and themes. As for so-called art house, festival cinema, and the like —in recent years, I’ve noticed a much greater focus on stylistic devices and almost none on the drama itself. And a film without a good story alienates the viewer; no matter what stylistic devices or experimental narrative techniques the director uses, most of the audience remains lost in translation. Personally, I try to find a balance—it all starts with the story, and once I know what I’m telling, I look for the language that’s most suitable and interesting to me to tell it. We mustn’t forget that cinema, after all, is a form of communication.
Do you think that the best films really do win at film festivals? Are there other determining factors, such as politics, current events, or the handling of sensitive topics? How does a jury reach a consensus, and what “pitfalls” lurk in that process?
Of course not. What constitutes a good film is such a subjective concept. A given film may be the best film for a specific viewer simply because, at that moment, they find something in it that reflects their thoughts, experiences, or personal concerns. Can we argue with them? Festivals have always been influenced by social processes, politics, current events, developments in the global geopolitical landscape, and a host of other factors. But still, the subject matter can only take you so far—the language of cinema is what determines a film’s quality. Ultimately, no matter what theme an author chooses, if they don’t master that language and lack a sense of the depth of human nature when building characters and the overall narrative—nothing else matters. As for juries—I’ve been on a jury a few times, even serving as jury chair once—it’s a difficult and agonizing process in most cases. The line between objective qualities, the personal tastes of each member, aesthetic sensibilities, and so on is a fine one. Ultimately, it comes down to dialogue; if not, a vote; if not, a chairperson with the final say who, as the saying goes, takes responsibility. :)
What criteria will you use when evaluating films?
I try to set aside my personal feelings about the subject matter and focus on criteria that are at least partially objective, such as storytelling, acting, cinematography, editing, and sound. To watch the film impartially and see where my internal radar for truth and falsehood kicks in. In other words, a film might address topics on which I hold completely opposite views, but if it’s well-made, truthful, and poses questions to me as a viewer—I’ll vote for it.
Let’s also talk about another factor—artificial intelligence. Are we already seeing the effects of AI in cinema and theater? Do you perceive it as a threat, or is it simply another tool with potential? Is there a place for AI in creativity, and if so, how far do you think it should go?
Whatever I may think, artificial intelligence has already made its way into cinema and will continue to do so. I’m convinced that soon anyone who wants to will be able to produce a film simply by writing prompts, detailed instructions, and references. This, however, won’t kill real cinema; it will simply make it more niche—there will be separate categories for best film created by humans, for example. There will be entire festivals dedicated to human cinema, haha. It will simply become a separate category in the arts, while in mainstream cinema, advertising, and commercial projects, artificial intelligence will dominate the entire creative process. I believe that theater will survive and become an expensive and elite pleasure—watching live people perform right before your eyes will become an increasingly special experience. Overall, theater has survived the longest and will continue to survive, but as for cinema, I don’t know... it is so dependent on technological developments in the world, and we can only guess what will happen to it. One thing is certain—regardless of the tools, people with culture, references, and interesting ideas will always be a key part of the process of creating a work.