The theme of interpreting the past resonates incredibly well in today’s context when versions of history go through manipulation due to geopolitical tensions. In “Komunalka,” the endless verbal flow of nostalgic sentiments about personal life masks the fact of brutal confrontation. From a warm scene in the present, we split into two contrasting versions of the past, emphasizing the subjectivity of memory. Jonas’ cozy and warm narration sets a nostalgic tone, contrasting with the memory that comes to life in Eleonore’s head. At one point, we see a brutal fight scene and hear a romantic love story told by Jonas. The character, which seemed warm and radiant with love at the film’s beginning, becomes repulsive and frightening as the viewer gradually gets to a fuller picture of the past.
We presented the first version of the script at the Baltic Pitching Forum in 2021 (where it won the Producers’ Jury Special Mention Award), rewritten with the help of screenwriter Anna Bielak, emphasizing the themes of guilt and the silence about the past. Further on, with Vykintas Labanauskas, we included a critical moment in the history of Vilnius: the Expulsion of Poles. Although many works of art refer to the post-war context of Lithuania, this topic is relatively undiscovered.
The film’s action takes place in one location but at two different times (1947 and 2010). When the era changes, actors who embody the characters, the direction of the light, and the props change too. However, the arrangement of the characters in space (blocking) remains unchanged, emphasizing the unity of space between different times (DOP Vytautas Katkus). The reality of the present (diegetic music, natural lighting, realistic sound) gets replaced by an image of the past emerging from memory. The transformation of the space helps to achieve this effect. One of the room’s walls disappears, opening a more spacious apartment than we saw in the present. The wall acquires a symbolic meaning as a visual divider between past and present, a relic of the Soviet-era reforms. It was common to divide bigger rooms into several spaces to inhabit more families. The soundscape of post-war Vilnius replaces the noise of the modern city (sound director Dominyka Adomaitytė), from which the soundtrack (composer Dominykas Digimas) begins to weave, painting a darker picture of the apartment’s history. We hear Jonas’ sweet love story from the present, and we see a brutal conflict in Eleonore’s memory. Two versions of the past reach us simultaneously, separating two primary means of cinematographic expression – sound and image.