Traces

To be a well-paid anthropologist living in a luxurious Austrohungarian apartment in the center of Zagreb, researching and writing a book on old Slavic traditions - such is the fate of disillusioned Ana (Marija Škaričić), the protagonist of writer/director Dubravka Turić's enigmatic-to-a-fault debut drama Traces. While working on a book, academically accomplished but spiritually unfulfilled, Ana starts noticing symbols and traces that may or may not relate to her life. Cinematographer Damjan Radovanović's carefully composed wide shots convey a feeling that everyday life is filled with meaningful patterns. Unfortunately, narratively and thematically Traces soon delves into the overly familiar territory of European art house cinema - bourgeoise existential crisis. Ana's father (Mate Gulin) is sick and soon dies, an event that pushes her even deeper into a crisis of meaning.

Corrosive modernity looms large over Ana and the world she inhabits. She frequently listens to an audiobook recording of TS Eliot's modernist masterpiece The Love Song Of J Alfred Prufrock. Eliot's poetic musings on the frustration and impotence of the modern individual echo through the luxurious apartment, art gallery, and library that Ana visits. Turić shows her protagonist going through the repetitive motions of examining rocks, watching authentically reconstructed archival footage, and the tedious task of typing meaningful words on a seemingly endless white paper. By setting Ana's actions into richly-lit luscious spaces Turić manages to transform a dry world of academic research into an intoxicating affair.

Soon Ana's professional deformation goes off the rails. She starts resembling a teenager obsessed with astrology, seeing a sign in every little detail. Eventually, mystical symbols intertwine with Ana's everyday life. A white rabbit in a pet shop resembles the one in an old family photo. The snowflake that rests on the palm of her hand mirrors the Slavic symbol on the front cover of Ana's newly published book. Traces is packed with many such moments of ambiguous 'visual poetry', yet more often than not they feel too forced to convey a genuine sense of wonder.

Thus, Ana's inner search for meaning soon becomes monotonous. What sparks more interest than Ana's underdeveloped interior life are the subjects and methods of her professional research, which by the second half of the film becomes less prominent. A rare moment both Ana and the film break free of the stylised gloom and doom is when she visits her family's abandoned country house. Meeting with an old friend, a farmer (Nikša Butijer) who lives a drastically different life, brings rare moments of warmth and comedy both to the film and Ana.

By forcing ambiguity and vagueness upon the story Turić leaves the audience with only traces of a film. One that, besides its precise and rich visual language, isn't fully formed in its characters or themes. With her debut film, Turić has created an unpredictable breadcrumb trail for the audience. Be warned - if you decide to follow the traces you'll realise that they only lead to more breadcrumbs.