
Ah, it's that time of year again for the annual Tirana International Film Festival (TIFF). One of the only film festivals where all programs are free.
I missed the first four days of the festival because I was in Rome for Thanksgiving. Yesterday my husband and I took our places in the eighth row of this year's upgraded venue--Teatri Kombetar-- Tirana's national theater.
TIFF is known for short films. Like short stories, short films frustrate, titillate, captivate and seldom satisfy film-goers, luring the audience into the story just as the credits begin to roll. The final film of a ten-film short program featured a Ukrainian film entitled Diagnosis directed by Myroslav Slaboshpytsky. A fifteen minute view into the lives of drug addicted squatters and pregnant Tatiana who learns she has just given birth to an HIV positive child. Tatiana, also diagnosed HIV positive asks her boyfriend to pull the plug from the baby's life support in fear the hospital will sell his tiny organs on the black market.
Tatiana's boyfriend smothers the baby with a pillow as he lies breathing on his own in Intensive Care. As the pillow makes contact with the baby's face, my husband screams, "bastard," slamming his fist into the red velvet theater seat in front of him. He stands to walk out of the theater. "I can't take it," he says. "It hurts my heart."
"Then it's a good film," I say. It's supposed to hurt, to shock, to make you think. But it's OK Zemer. That baby boy is just an actor. He isn't dead."
"I won't sleep tonight," says my husband."
"It's just a film. The world is made up of people who are so desperate they do shocking, vile, and contemptible things.
Fortunately the last film of the evening was a heartwarming Romanian documentary, Constantin and Elena by Andrei Dascalescu about the simple love of the director's grandparents--a couple married for 53 years.
On the first day of TIFF we traveled to Sarajevo, USA, Chile, UK, Iceland, Finland, Ukraine and Romania. Today I heard the Icelandic language for the first time; I learned Santa Claus used to be a fascist; I learned how many patients die unable to cross Israeli checkpoints to get to hospital. Today I am off to France, Italy, Bulgaria, Spain, Kosovo, and Hungary. The language of film is universal.


