It is a liberating feeling to be presented with a film, and not only given the permission to not try to make sense of the absurdity shown on screen but actively encouraged against it since this ultimately impinges on the experience of a particular film as a whole. We may never know what Bato Čengić was thinking when he made Life of a Shock Force Worker (Bosnian: Slike iz života udarnika), which is a film that was lost for many decades, before recently being found and restored into a pristine but fascinating work of art in which one of the more peculiar directors working in Yugoslavia at the time tells the bizarre story of workers and their family, focusing on the trials and tribulations of the populations that worked laboriously to provide for a country that in turn had nothing but umbrage and disdain for the common man, viewing them as pawns in their proverbial games of Communist cat-and-mouse, which is true of any country that felt the impact of the Soviet Union, whether directly or by mere proxy. This film is quite an achievement – a gorgeously made, deeply entertaining dark comedy that makes a series of satirical jabs that sting, even more, when we realize that there was a genuine desperation that inspired them, which leads to a harrowing and often quite uncomfortable comedy that knows how to catch our attention, as well as maintaining it in ways that may be surprising to the majority of the audience. Outrageously funny and extremely bleak, the film is a hauntingly entertaining piece of satirical media that never quite abates when it comes to delivering a series of harsh but essential truths about reality, handcrafted by a gifted filmmaker who is finally starting to receive his due, even if it is over a decade since his death, and even longer than his peak as an artist.

Few films carry as much sincere rebellion deep within its soul as Life of a Shock Force Worker, which is a varied and complex account of reality as seen by the director, who decides that the only way to execute this material is through exploring it as he understood it, which is decidedly quite different from what we may have expected. The majority of satires, even those that are most profound and merciless, tend to present a comedic facade, under which there is a deeper meaning – this film goes the complete opposite direction, starting with a profound and complex set of ideas, after which it applies a sense of sardonic humour that conceals the scathing, often quite disorienting social commentary that drives the narrative. What it means is never made clear, and anyone who believes that the intentions of this film are obvious is either people with firsthand experience in this period of Yugoslavian art and culture (which has been severely under-represented on the global stage, despite a rich, evocative and brilliant legacy of exceptional art being produced in every conceivable medium for centuries) or simply not able to see that there is much more to this film than initially meets the eye, since there is far too much complexity for us to ever truly understand what it is meant by this film, even at its most fundamental and simple. Yet, this sense of confusion is the most impactful tool of this entire production, since it signals something much deeper and far more disorienting than we may have initially expected, which adds layers to what Čengić was taking the time to demonstrate throughout this film. Finding answers in a film like Life of a Shock Force Worker is not only unlikely, it is entirely impossible, which is certainly part of the exceptional appeal that drives this stunning film.

The exact meaning of Life of a Shock Force Worker is not entirely clear, and it is left to the viewer’s interpretation to discern precisely what it meant by these ideas, but the director makes it clear that we are in good hands, and he gingerly guides us through this off-the-wall comedy – and after a while, it becomes so bizarre we start to question whether it can be considered a comedy in the first place, or whether it is more appropriately categorized as something much deeper and far more complex. The structure is what makes the film so intriguing, or rather the lack thereof – there doesn’t seem to be a particularly strong sense of cohesion throughout the film, which is not a complaint or even a criticism, but rather an observation, since this is exactly what catches our attention from the very first moments of this story. Čengić has a very distinct way of telling a story, and we would be foolish to have expected him to do anything less than create something deeply unnerving and unsettling in terms of the narrative, all while still employing that same sense of pitch-black humour we would expect from many filmmakers working in Yugoslav cinema during the Communist era. Life of a Shock Force Worker is not entirely about narrative and is more focused on the smaller and more intricate character-based details that underpin the story, as well as the overall sense of chaos inspired throughout the film. The director approaches this story from a place where the atmosphere is more important than anything else, and he quickly establishes quite an intriguing mood throughout this film, which is driven by the sense of undeniable confusion that envelopes most of the story – and this is precisely why the film works so well since it is an off-the-wall, ambitious and creatively ambigious work of pure narrative anarchy, where the viewer is plunged into an alternative reality, from which there is no other choice than to just surrender to the madness and take every moment as it comes towards us, which is quite an experience.

Political and conceptual rebellion was not the only factor that went into the construction of Life of a Shock Force Worker, which is as much about the culture as it is the unhinged artistic expression with which the director approaches this material. So much of this film depends on the element of surprise, and we constantly find ourselves caught off-guard by the material, which is presented with such chaotic brilliance. It is firstly beautifully made – the cinematography is impeccable, and the director makes sure that the images tell a story of their own, rather than depending too heavily on the dialogue, which is interesting but otherwise incidental, and intentional choice in which the script relies more heavily on repetition and ambiguity to get a particular message across, rather than being discursive on its terms. Stylistically, this is a brilliant film – the production on its own is quite remarkable, and we are constantly asked to attempt to decode and unpack the many strange and wonderful aspects that drive this film, which makes for an engaging and enthralling experience, but one that is more artistic than it is narrative, which is part of the charm. This film sets off a chain of events that are inexplicable but still very interesting, and it builds on these ideas through a steadily growing set of tableaux, in which we see the lives of these people in the country that was soon to become Bosnia and Herzegovina, going about their daily routine, all of which is captured in vibrant colour by a director with a penchant for chaos, the likes of which we have never seen, nor will likely ever come across in such a chaotic form ever again, which is exactly why it is important to acknowledge and celebrate the active brilliance that went into the creation of this film.

How terrific it is to finally have the opportunity to see this film, which is appropriately considered a gem of Balkan cinema, which has unfortunately not made as much of a cultural imprint as it perhaps deserves, especially in the era before the war, since the vast majority of films made in Bosnia and Herzegovina are focused on the more recent history, whether the war itself or its aftermath, a fascinating but limiting subject that is only resolved through leaping into the past and trying to understand precisely what it was that made so many of these earlier films so enticing. This beautiful restoration was done with nothing but respect and affection for not only this film, but Yugoslavian cinema as a whole, which is perfectly represented in this film – bitingly funny, subversive in ways that we would never expect, and deeply affecting, unearthing secrets that linger beneath the surface, covered by generations of political propaganda and cultural conflict. It all amounts to a tremendously compelling and quite impactful dark comedy with a lot of interesting ideas and a sense of rebellion that has always been one of the hallmarks of European cinema produced during this time. We are so fortunate that the work was done to bring this film to contemporary audiences, and it will have quite an impact on any viewer – for natives, they will see their country as it was many decades ago, a while before the more recent conflicts that plagued the region, while for outsiders, it will present a unique glimpse into a time and place many of us may not be familiar with, and both perspectives are vital and always very interesting. Life of a Shock Force Worker is a masterpiece of Balkan cinema, a simple but effective satire with a jagged edge and poignant heartfulness, the two working together in tandem to create this tremendously captivating film that never feels impelled to explain its intentions, but instead exists as a radical testimony to the past and the people that occupied this time.