To quote the famous philosopher Albus Dumbledore, “We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” One such choice is made in writer-director Nebojsal Slijepcevic’s short film, The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent.
Our tale takes place in 1993, at the start of the Bosnian War in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Dragan (Goran Bogdan) is on a train trip with six other passengers in his car. Suddenly, the train makes an unexpected stop, and soldiers board it, insisting on inspecting the IDs of all passengers.
At first, Dragan thinks they are searching for deserters, but it becomes painfully clear that they are looking for Muslims. Sitting across Dragan is Milan (Silvio Mumelas), a young man who doesn’t have an ID for whatever reason. Dragan tries to reassure everyone that everything will be alright, but Milan’s tense conversation with the soldier does not turn out well.
“…one Croatian on a train of 500, who dared to stand up to the soldier and the injustice about to be carried out.”
As the story plays out, we witness the injustices suffered by Bosnian Muslims, who faced widespread ethnic cleansing and mass murder at the hands of the Serbians. The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent tells the story of one Croatian on a train of 500, who dared to stand up to the soldier and the injustice about to be carried out.
Spoiler alert: Our protagonist, Dragan, is not that man, but he represents us, the audience. He chose the easy route and complied, knowing that he was witnessing a young man being escorted to his death.
Slijepcevic’s film asks the question, “What would you do?” Goran Bogdan’s performance as Dragan makes The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent a powerful film. Although his role has very few lines, Bogdan’s facial performance says everything. It’s like we’re reading his mind. What would I do?
The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent lingers long after the credits roll, forcing us to confront the choices we make in the face of injustice. Slijepcevic masterfully crafts a tale that is both haunting and necessary, reminding us that silence, too, is a choice with consequences.
"…silence, too, is a choice with consequences."
Sounds interesting and powerful, as long as it’s not made from any biased groundings.