A compassionate yet deeply harrowing delve into the important work done by the Croatian empowerment programme ‘I Am Much More Than My Trauma’ which helps women who were raped and traumatised during the Croatian War of Independence. Vedrana Pribacic’s film focusses on a handful of women taking part throughout the programme’s two-year duration.
Twenty-five years after the war, many of the surviving women have not healed. The justice system is slow, the legal process of fact-finding is brutal and, according to the film, government support largelåy translates into the prescription of drugs, and then silence.
Durdica, who took part in one of the first programmes, says with blank-faced pragmatism that “the story I want to forget is the rape…” Now she supports other women.
The film follows three very different women embarking on the programme, facing up to (and trying to deal with) terrible and traumatic memories, and addressing the sense of shame that many still carry with them, despite the blame falling solely on the men who brutalised them.
Katica is introduced on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle, meeting up with other members of the Gladiators biker group. She admits to appearing tough, but concedes that she has been “silent for 21 years” and that she is “not as strong as I look.” Ana says she was brought up in rural innocence, a Serb living happily in a Croatian community but now ostracised in her home village, while Marija talks about imprisoned in a house after that day in October 1991 when “everything changed…when people changed.”
The group embarks on deep, reformative personal therapy together. Intimate cameras witness them gradually talking about their experiences; examining photos of themselves before the war and sceptically – and warily – attempting physical touch exercises.
Frictions within the group erupt along cultural lines, reinforcing past pain, with Ana deciding to leave for a while as her Serbian roots lead to conflict. But to an extent this is precisely what is required to cultivate acceptance and peace, and she grudgingly returns to the group, slowly learning to appreciate the love and compassion that her group-members can provide. For three years, they share their most private thoughts and slowly transform from collateral damage of an old war to newly empowered women.
In a powerful scene one of the male therapists gives them physical therapy. “Empathy is a big part…having experienced abuse by men, each man is a threat. Gradually they’ll be able to acknowledge and set their boundaries,” he says.
The longer the course, the more the women start to open up to each other and the therapists. In final scenes they meet to party and receive their course completion certificates. Marija says her co-workers have noticed she had changed after the therapy and asked her if they could join in as well. “I told them: I’m sorry, it’s for special people only,” she confides.
An on-screen coda reveals that a fourth therapy group included men as well, but that programme was shut down due to lack of funding.
While filmed in appropriately matter-of-fact style, Bigger Than Trauma succeeds in delivering a powerful story in a compassionate manner. It is an important story that still demands attention, and Vedrana Pribacic’s position is very clear…that the programme delivers results and should be supported.
Croatia, 2022, 90mins
Dir: Vedrana Pribacic
Production: Metor60 Production, Croatian Audiovisual Centre
Producer: Mirta Puhlovski
Screenplay: Vedrana Pribacic, Mirta Puhlovski
Cinematography: Dario Hacek
Editor: Marta Broz
Music: Mirta Puhlovski
With: Katica Sojat, Marija Dakovic, Ana Popovic, Durdica Pankas
This review was first published for the film’s screening in Changing Face of Europe, Hot Docs 2022
