After Nazi occupation became fun in Life is Beautiful, it was only a matter of time before someone attempted a romantic comedy-drama about the Bosnian War. Beautiful People, debut for Bosnian born writer/director Jasmin Dizdar, attempts this in a multi-charactered, parallel plotted, dual-based ethnic and political allegory.
Plot threads include - a Serb at war with a Croat from his home village who end up in the same hospital ward with a Welsh nationalist and a cantankerous Sister for company; an idealistic junior doctor (Charlotte Coleman), daughter of a Tory MP, falls in love with a refugee and plans to marry him to the disgust of her upper-class family; a divorced GP (Nicholas Farrell) invites a refugee couple into his home after convincing them that their baby is not evil although she was conceived as a result of gang-rape by enemy soldiers. Some of the links, such as characters living/working in the same places, are a tad improbable but all help to advance the plot, yet there is one almost surreal sequence where belief has to be suspended completely - a racist heroin addict climbs into a supply trolley at an airport only to be accidentally parachuted into the centre of the conflict, then (unhurt) supplies essential drugs to a field hospital before returning transformed as the sole carer of an injured orphan.
It is a real ensemble piece with roughly 25 lead characters, 30 separate locations and around a dozen different stories unfolding, all of which gradually converge towards one central point - that both Britain and Bosnia are intrinsically multi-ethnic and we must all exercise tolerance and understanding to make our cultures work. Sound obvious and preachy? The fact that it doesn’t come across as such is probably the film’s greatest strength. Sadly, although it attempts to illustrate the horrors of conflict, it fails to pack any real punch due to a (deliberate) lack of political purpose or cynicism and a frenzied narrative let down by some rather clumsy editing. Still, this is a very creditable and surprisingly respectful attempt to cover challenging topics and bridge cultural divides.
Plot threads include - a Serb at war with a Croat from his home village who end up in the same hospital ward with a Welsh nationalist and a cantankerous Sister for company; an idealistic junior doctor (Charlotte Coleman), daughter of a Tory MP, falls in love with a refugee and plans to marry him to the disgust of her upper-class family; a divorced GP (Nicholas Farrell) invites a refugee couple into his home after convincing them that their baby is not evil although she was conceived as a result of gang-rape by enemy soldiers. Some of the links, such as characters living/working in the same places, are a tad improbable but all help to advance the plot, yet there is one almost surreal sequence where belief has to be suspended completely - a racist heroin addict climbs into a supply trolley at an airport only to be accidentally parachuted into the centre of the conflict, then (unhurt) supplies essential drugs to a field hospital before returning transformed as the sole carer of an injured orphan.
It is a real ensemble piece with roughly 25 lead characters, 30 separate locations and around a dozen different stories unfolding, all of which gradually converge towards one central point - that both Britain and Bosnia are intrinsically multi-ethnic and we must all exercise tolerance and understanding to make our cultures work. Sound obvious and preachy? The fact that it doesn’t come across as such is probably the film’s greatest strength. Sadly, although it attempts to illustrate the horrors of conflict, it fails to pack any real punch due to a (deliberate) lack of political purpose or cynicism and a frenzied narrative let down by some rather clumsy editing. Still, this is a very creditable and surprisingly respectful attempt to cover challenging topics and bridge cultural divides.