Satire may take on many different forms, but there are generally two major ways to categorize it as a form of artistic expression – there are those satires in which the purpose is made quite clear and those that use allegory to the point where the viewer may need additional context to fully unpack the meaning behind a particular subject. This is most notable when it comes to those works produced in previous decades and is usually amplified when said works were made in countries with a history of austere censorship. In the case of The Tied Up Balloon (Bulgarian: Привързаният балон), we find ourselves squarely situated in the latter category. However, there isn’t any reason to dismiss this film solely based on the ambiguity that envelopes it -, it is this precise enigmatic quality that makes The Tied Up Balloon such a remarkably interesting piece of cinema, especially since it is a film by Binka Zhelyazkova, who is widely considered one of the most important filmmakers in the history of Bulgarian art, and perhaps the cornerstone of the entire industry, particularly in how she spent years fending off criticism and censorship by the government, which sought to suppress her work, which they viewed as dangerous and potentially incendiary, which could have caused quite a stir with the community that was looking for a reason to revolt. In many ways, this sentiment is correct – art is usually the spark that ignites major movements, and with this film, the director takes a bold stance that is daring, original and subversive in ways that are frequently quite daring, which makes for a unique experience. An absolute genius, and someone whom we have grown to appreciate much more since her films have become more widely available, Zhelyazkova’s sharp and pointed sense of satire is captured in vivid detail in this film, which proves to be one of the most impactful dark comedies of its era, both narratively and in terms of the themes that are explored throughout the film.

The premise of The Tied Up Balloon is extremely simple – the residents of a small pastoral town in the countryside of Bulgaria (which was a communist state and an ally of the Soviet Union, although not an official member) grow concerned when an enormous inflated balloon drifts after their village, which causes widespread panic as everyone tries to decipher what its presence means, and whether it is a signal of peace or a declaration of war, which leads to something very close to a civil war amongst the different factions of this community. This is only the start of the plot, but it is the most coherent aspect of it since everything after the initial few minutes of exposition is essentially a freeform, flailing jumble of ideas that see the director throwing many different concepts into the story and patiently waiting to see how they communicate with each other when placed side-by-side, as well as the process of gradually blurring together. Zhelyazkova was a very experimental filmmaker, and her style of storytelling is difficult to pin down in a single coherent description. The most apt is probably that she is someone who held a considerable amount of incredulity towards traditional narratives, which she saw as stringent and not at all compatible with her more freeform style of storytelling. She builds her films as a bundle of loose ideas that somehow work together splendidly, and through employing a stream-of-consciousness approach, coupled with a sincere sense of absurdism, she constructs a film that is simple and daring, while never being overly academic or didactic in trying to convey a particular meaning. For a satirist, this can be a challenge, since there is a perception that the audience needs to at some point understand what is being said for the satire to be effective. Zhelyazkova dismisses his idea and instead chooses to surrender to the carnivalesque madness of communist-era socio-politics, which forms the foundation for The Tied Up Balloon, which relishes in its extraordinary peculiarity.

When it comes to art produced under strict governmental rule (even those not directly aligned with the draconian laws and principles of the Soviet Union), something that those in charge of dictating what was acceptable to be consumed by their citizens failed to realize is labelling a work of art as dangerous and potentially subversive will not only make it more intriguing but give it a sense of historical significance, since we often find the most interesting works are those that have the reputation for angering political regimes, which we already know very rarely has any significant overlap with the artistic community and its adherents. The decision to ban Zhelyazkova’s films for decades only allowed them to be more notable since they were suddenly given the undeniably powerful promotion of being labelled as controversial, which only helped them gain further attention, both domestically and with global audiences. A film like The Tied Up Balloon is intriguing because nothing about it is directly political until the very end (and even then, a lot of the commentary is contained to mere allusion more than anything else), so it not only brings us a level of enjoyment to imagine the censors at the time clamouring over every detail in a film centred around a giant balloon, and featuring some of the wackiest, off-the-wall imagery of the era (and the fact that the film was made with the knowledge that the government-appointed censors would need to watch it proves how this is as much a satire as it is a piece of protest art in itself), but also gives layers to the story, which is beautifully delivered with a narrative that is intensely compelling and often quite peculiar, but in a way that does make sense. There is a method to the madness, and Zhelyazkova spends a decent amount of time developing many of the ideas at the heart of the film, allowing it to remain quite captivating without falling victim to its eccentricities, which is often a battle fought by some of these ambitious works of satirical absurdism.

Zhelyazkova had many challenges standing ahead of her when she set out to make this film – it may not be on the technical or narrative scope of some of her other films like We Were Young (perhaps her most well-known film)and The Last Word, but its certainly not without its complex aspects. In many ways, making a film as allegorical and steeped in allusion as this proves to be even more of a challenge for a filmmaker, since not only did she have to deliver quite a striking message, but it had to be done more subtly, particularly in how it balances the humour with the underlying socio-cultural and political commentary. Zhelyazkova chooses to craft this film as an ensemble piece – this alleviated the need to spend time creating fully-dimensional, complex protagonists, and instead allowed her to make a more broad satire, one that thinly-conceived archetypes may define, but which are undeniably still memorable. Not a single character in this film has a name, and they all disappear for long periods, their return to the story being as inexplicable as their exit – but yet it all makes sense in the context of the film she is making, which is a wild, off-the-wall satire about mob mentality and the widespread panic that can take over a small community at inopportune moments. It’s a strange film, but one with a lot of complex ideas simmering beneath the surface, and the cast is uniformly fantastic. Many of these actors were taking a risk equal to that of the director, perhaps even more so in the capacity of being the literal face of the film – and they certainly are aware of the challenge presented to them but are not at all afraid to commit wholeheartedly to the act of telling this story in detail. Some genuinely talented actors who would go on to have illustrious careers in Bulgarian cinema found themselves passing through this film, and all deliver spellbinding, compelling, earnest, self-aware performances, while still being profoundly captivating and always worth the time it took to explore this particular narrative.

Over half a century later, The Tied Up Balloon is still a masterpiece of Cold War-era satire and has only gotten more compelling as time has progressed. A lot of satire tends to age, which is understandable considering it is nearly always made for the present moment, rather than for a wider audience across multiple generations. The fact that it has stood the test of time as well as it has proves not only that it is helmed by a true master of her craft, but that Zhelyazkova brought such a unique perspective to the storytelling process, defying rules and creating her conventions, which go against nearly everything we have come to believe as true of the medium. Satire is always challenging to get just right, and there is very little shame in a film failing to age well – but in the case of The Tied Up Balloon, this is not particularly relevant to the entire conversation, since it remains quite a remarkable achievement. It isn’t often discussed and remains quite obscure outside of circles of devotees to this kind of counterculture cinema, but it is steadily growing in status and is gradually becoming one of the most unique works of satire of this period. Filled to the brim with unforgettable imagery, and symbolism that begs for multiple viewings, and is driven by a genuine sense of curiosity and defiance, which work together in tandem to create a complex, unforgettable narrative that is as peculiar as it is steadfast in its commitment to rebel against authority, which only further proves the value of seeking out these satirical works and finding the peculiarities simmering beneath the surface of every one of them.