
Albania cnom
Season 2 Episode 202 | 57m 26sVideo has Closed Captions
We meet Rain, a spirited photographer who returns home to Tirana to follow her heart to filmmaking.
Through the eyes of women directors, we explore Albania's isolated past, and a rich filmmaking heritage struggling to survive. We meet young and energetic Rain, who chooses to return to Albania after a few years abroad, while most of her generation aims to leave. And Iris, head of the National Archives trying to preserve the rich catalogue of Albanian films that are at risk of deterioration.
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Cinema Nomad is presented by your local public television station.
Distributed nationally by American Public Television

Albania cnom
Season 2 Episode 202 | 57m 26sVideo has Closed Captions
Through the eyes of women directors, we explore Albania's isolated past, and a rich filmmaking heritage struggling to survive. We meet young and energetic Rain, who chooses to return to Albania after a few years abroad, while most of her generation aims to leave. And Iris, head of the National Archives trying to preserve the rich catalogue of Albanian films that are at risk of deterioration.
Problems playing video? | Closed Captioning Feedback
Where to Watch Cinema Nomad
Cinema Nomad is available to stream on pbs.org and the PBS app.
Providing Support for PBS.org
Learn Moreabout PBS online sponsorshipThis is a story about the underdogs.
About strength and survival.
A story about collective memory.
Cinema as memory.
Memory as cinema.
This is a story about Albania, and the women shaping its cultural landscape.
♪ ♪ Steadee█s Back In The Groove theme song plays ♪ ♪ Hi, I'm Stephanie the Cinema Nomad.
Join me on brand new adventures.
The world is a wonderful place where people overcome incredible odds to make their mark.
We'll meet filmmakers who are as courageous as they are inspiring.
Cinema Nomad connects across cultures: to learn, explore, share, and carry on a heritage of cinematic storytelling.
[in Albanian] Rain Nikolla is a filmmaker born and raised in Fier.
She grew up with a love of photography and storytelling.
Rain attended the Murubi Film School in Tirana.
Later, she moved to Dubai to pursue a filmmaking career, where she spent five years filming and photographing with a range of international clients, as well as editing for Dubai Tourism.
Rain returned to Albania to focus on stories about her home and culture.
She was a Second Assistant Director on the acclaimed film "Bota," and won a grant from the Albanian Film Fund to direct her first short film, "Diell."
She also won funds from France to complete post-production, and the film screened all around the world.
[Rain] Well as a child, I wanted to become three things, which was a Storyteller, an Astronaut, and a Karate Master.
Three different things.
But as a storyteller, I originally wanted to become a writer.
Because I thought that that was the best way for me to express myself.
And I said, "Well, okay, I'm gonna go and study to become a Screenwriter."
So I did go to the film school to inquire, and I asked them, "Okay, do you have, or can I study to become a Screenwriter?"
And they said, "Well, we don't have a Screenwriting course, but we have a course for Directors.
And there you can study, you can study Screenwriting."
And I said, "No, no, no, I don't want to become a Director," because I thought I was too shy to do that.
But then she gave me one of the pamphlets.
She said, "No, just, if you change your mind, come back," and then I said, "No, it's fine.
And then I did go to the cinema I saw "Black Swan," and then I said, "Okay After I came back, I took the pamphlet and I said, "Okay, I'm becoming a Film Director."
Locally, Albania is called Shqipëria, meaning “The Land of Eagles."
A beautiful country in southern Europe, on the western end of the Balkan Peninsula, Albania is bordered by Montenegro, Kosovo, North Macedonia, Greece and both the Adriatic and Ionian seas.
With a population of around 2.5 million, Albania also has a large diaspora living abroad; from neighboring Kosovo and Macedonia; all the way to Italy, Greece, and the USA.
Modern day Albanians trace their ancestry back to the ancient Illyrians, who were here from around 2000 BCE.
The present day Albanian language a rare survivor of the Illyrians' tongue, with Greek, Roman and Slavic influences.
It's one of the world's oldest surviving languages.
In 168 BCE, after intense fighting, the Romans conquered, and ruled the area for approximately 6 centuries.
When the Roman Empire divided into East and West in 395 CE, the territories of modern Albania became part of the Byzantine Empire.
Enter the Normans in the late 11th century Later, the Albanian Prince Progon created his own independent state.
Meanwhile, Albania was ruled by the Serbs until 1355.
By the late 14th century, the Ottoman Turks took claim.
During this Ottoman occupation, many Albanians fled to Italy, while much of the remaining population slowly converted to Islam.
In 1912, the Albanians led by Ismail Qemali declared independence, but when the European powers redrew the map of Europe, they limited Albania's territory and up to 40% of Albanians found themselves living outside of Albania's new borders.
Throughout World War One, Albania was a battlefield which set the stage for much political turmoil.
And in 1928 Ahmed Zogu took over to rule under the identity of King Zog.
King Zog reformed the country, while both banning Sharia law and partnering with Fascist Italy.
However, in 1939, Italy invaded Albania and took over, because Mussolini felt Albania was too financially dependent on Italy.
In 1941, the Albanian Communist Party was formed, and led the resistance against the Italian Fascists; later, the German Nazis, who both tried to conquer Albanian territory throughout World War Two.
Enver Hoxha, a schoolteacher, was the charismatic leader who led the resistance against the Fascists.
In 1941, Hoxha was named the first Secretary of the Party of Labor of Albania, a position he held until his death.
In 1946, the People█s Republic of Albania was formed and Hoxha was its Supreme Commander.
In 1967, Albania declared itself the world's first atheist state, banning all religions.
Hoxha ruled until his death in 1985, and his second in command, Ramiz Alia, took over until 1992, when the first democratic elections were held.
[Rain] So I did go to film school, but I was unable to complete my studies because I couldn't pay for them.
So I was left at a point where I felt a bit hopeless, well I wanted to become a filmmaker, but I can't complete my studies.
And then at the time, that was a very fixed idea in my head that you need to finish your studies to make a film.
So I was feeling really hopeless in Albania, and I said, "Well, I want to find a way maybe to go abroad, save some money, complete my studies," and just... I didn't like the fact that I felt stuck.
I wanted to do anything just to move forward.
And at that time, that turned out actually to be a good decision to leave Albania for some time.
I moved to Dubai and I worked as a freelance photographer and videographer, which actually allowed me to improve my skills, my technical skills.
And like I said, I used to be really shy, and it did help me a lot with, to overcome that.
Because as a freelancer, you're working with a lot of people, you know, so you do gain confidence.
[Stephanie] Your 14 day camel trek... [Rain] Ah, yes.
First tell me what that was, but also what made you decide to do this camel trek?
And maybe how did you change as a result of this journey?
In December 2019, I did participate in a camel trek, which is a 14 day's journey with a camel to cross the desert So we crossed 700km, and we were riding nine hours a day.
So, it was absolutely amazing to be out there in the desert.
A challenge, but an amazing challenge.
And did you feel like you changed as a result?
I was actually told that, "Once you do that, you're going to become more confident in yourself that I can do this."
And it was, it was really a challenge to push yourself and just to say, "Well, I do have a goal and I'm facing a challenge, but I'm going to keep going."
So it did... I think it did... It did convince me that no matter what goal you have in life, you are gonna face challenges.
But you can overcome it, and you just have to be strong, and just do it.
But then after five years and something, despite Dubai being really good to me... But, I just really wanted to make films.
That was my driving force.
So I said "I'm going to come back to Albania."
I know it's going to be a challenge because it is Albania, it has its own issues.
But I said, "No matter what challenges I'm going to face, I'm going to come back."
Yes, almost every person that I know does want to leave Albania, because they, they have this idea that you can't really move forward in Albania, that there aren't many opportunities for you to do something.
You don't have the right support so they just really want to leave.
So when I tell them that I just came back from Dubai just a few months ago, and they tell me, "Why, are you crazy?"
And then I explain to them well, "I came because I want to make films."
And that's my passion, and they just don't really understand.
A lot of people don't understand why I would do something like that, to come back here.
But I think when you really Want to do something, when you're really passionate, you will move mountains, you know, but you will do it.
So no matter where you are, just forget all limitations, just focus on your goals, on your dreams, and keep working towards them, and eventually it will happen.
[Stephanie] And so far you're happy that you came back?
Yes, yes.
Yes.
Very happy.
Very happy.
[Stephanie's voice] A train pulls into the station, and young Dielleza is lifted off by a kind bearded man, her uncle He drops Dielleza off at the house of a relative whom has no interest in looking after her.
Throughout the film, Dielleza interacts with an angsty teenage girl, and resistance turns towards friendship.
Longing for home, Dielleza runs away following the train's tracks.
Directed by Rain Nikolla with a photographer's eye, and co-written with Thomas Logoreci, "Diell" tenderly plays with a combination of childhood wonder, fear and confusion.
The cinematography takes us into the eyes of this child, whom, like Rain, has a fascination with trains.
It's an excellent debut film, from an artistic eye that I'm sure will only continue to blossom.
Rain took me to the train station at Elbasan, where she shot "Diell."
And we were greeted by the friendly station master, who spoke of his fondness for the old Albanian films of his youth.
[Rain] I got the idea to make my film, because one evening I was walking along the railroad and it started to rain, and I was just, you know, feeling a bit nostalgic about my childhood.
And I remember this episode when I was seven-years-old; I was actually in this city, and I came here, and I wanted to go back to my city, because I was spending two days at my uncle's house and I missed my grandmother, who was sick and blind at the time.
So I said, "Okay, I want to go back home, but I don't know how, how am I going to go back home by myself?"
And I had this idea that, okay, if I walk on the train tracks, eventually I'm going to reach home, you know?
So and just, you know, to be seven-years-old, and I tried that, to have this courage by myself to walk all the way from one city to the next, you know, with no money, no food, no water, and just fearless.
And I said, well, okay, if I could do that at seven, I can do anything.
And in my film, it ends with a girl walking away, and we don't see what happens to her because I like open endings.
But do you want me to tell you what happened with my story?
[Stephanie] Yeah!
[Rain] That's not what happened to my character.
[Stephanie] I'd love to know what happened [Rain] Well, eventually my uncle he saw me that I was leaving, but he wanted to see what I was going to do.
So he... He left me.
I walked and I walked and he was just following me, but without saying anything.
And eventually, after I walked for I don't know how long, he just got me to come back.
"Where are you going?"
"You're not running away?"
[Stephanie's voice] Tirana, the vibrant capital of Albania with a population around 600,000, is one of the most social places I've ever visited.
If coffee is king, then Rakija is queen, and friends share a laugh or a cry over their favorite cafe-culture pastimes.
The city is centered around the Great Skanderbeg Square, in honor of the 15th century hero who fought back against the rising Ottomans.
Here, in a buzz of activity, you'll find the National Opera and Ballet, where I first met Rain for a coffee.
In terms of Albania's long and rich history, Tirana is young.
First built in 1614 by feudal Lord Sulejman Pasha Bargjini, who set up a mosque, a hammam, and a bakery.
All one needs to start a new life.
In 1920, Tirana was declared the capital and has continued to grow ever since.
One noticeable thing about Tirana is the unique presence of bunkers.
After Enver Hoxha split ties with Soviet Russia, he had hundreds of thousands of bomb shelter bunkers built across the country.
Today, over 170,000 remain scattered across the country.
These abandoned Cold War relics serve as a nearly useless symbol of paranoia.
A couple of bunkers have been turned into museums, such as Tirana's BunkArt 1 and 2 with historical and art exhibits providing thought provoking pieces, and relics left over from the past.
I visited BunkArt to scope out the massive underground bunker built for Hoxha and his cronies.
He even had the foresight to install a cinema!
What types of stories and themes are you most drawn to telling?
I like telling character-driven stories and personal stories, and I'm inspired by human strength and, you know, people who maybe they haven't had a voice for a long time, or maybe they were pressured, and they find themselves in situations where they feel hopeless.
But I like to tell the story of how they managed to find their way.
One of the things that I have seen a little bit here and there is that people tend to think that just because you're a woman that the stories you tell are going to be this very soft, irrelevant stories.
People who haven't seen my film, but just when I tell them that I'm making a film they will just automatically assume that it's let's say, a cheesy story or they don't... they have this very low expectation about female film directors.
So, this is something that will hopefully change with time.
But as far as being on set with a crew, we actually did have most of the cast and crew are actually girls in our film, so it is a "girl film," you know But even though... you know the male cast and crew, they were real supportive, personally towards me, as a first time film director.
[Stephanie's voice] For much of the 47 years that Albania was under Communist rule, the country was completely isolated from the world.
After World War Two, Albania had a loose dalliance with Yugoslavia, but soon Enver█s interest split with Tito, in favor of Stalin and the USSR.
While not formally a part of the Soviet Union, Enver did ally himself with Stalin and received plenty of aid in return, which helped form the Albanian film industry.
Once Stalin died, however, Enver did not care for Khrushchev's policies, and he broke up with the USSR.
Enver traded communist partners and latched on to Maoist China.
In the late 1960s, Enver embarked on his own Mao inspired Cultural Revolution As such, in 1967, Enver banned organized religion.
There's a really nice documentar that takes you through this history: Fatmir Koci's 2006 "The Land of Eagles," written by celebrated Albanian novelist, poet, playwright, and screenwriter Ismail Kadare.
"The Land of Eagles" uses archival footage films, and newsreels shot throughout the dictatorship.
It's worth a watch to understand the complex history and identity of Albania.
And just as had occurred with the USSR, all great love affairs must come to an end.
When Mao died, Enver could no longer go on.
And so he broke up with China, leaving Albania in total isolation.
At this point, Enver declared that Albania was "the only tTRUE socialist nation" left in the world, and so he chose to go it alone, literally fencing in the entire country, ensuring that almost no one enters or exits.
People tried to flee, but not many succeeded.
Border fences electrocuted those who touched it, and border guards were ordered to shoot on sight.
Enver's secret police, The Sigurimi, spied on the nation and outed anyone deemed to be against the party.
Jailing, torture and executions were common.
Even listening to foreign radio and some people got killed for d Few people had televisions, yet Cinema with a capital C was celebrated.
It was one of the only accepted forms of entertainment during the dictatorship.
Albanians loved to go to the movies, and the films watched at the movie theaters were purely Albanian, a product of the tightly controlled yet prolific Kino Studios.
"Tana" is considered Kino Studio's first feature length film.
In case you think working on State produced movies was a safehaven for the filmmakers, know that the cinematographer of "Tana" was jailed for 20 years.
When the film was released, his name was covered up with green tape on the poster.
Likewise, in the 1982 film "The Second November," the name of a child actor was removed from the credits due to his father's anti-State policies.
And Viktor Stratoberdha, a documentarian working outside of the system trying to show how people really lived, was sentenced to 10 years in prison.
As the anecdote goes, for making a joke about Enver Hoxha.
As I delved into the history of Albania, I found myself wondering, how do the filmmakers of Albania reckon with a past that centered around fear, control and isolation?
How does cinema intertwine with memory?
Do we share the stories of our past mistakes in order to figure out how to move forward?
Do we choose to forget and push these films aside?
If we do choose to ignore or for will we repeat the same mistakes our forefathers made?
These need not be strictly Albanian questions.
[Rain] During the Communist period, a lot of films were produced much, much more than today.
But of course, a lot of them, actually all of them, they were censored, you know, so they had to be really... they were really under the microscope But a lot of their stories, despite being censored, they do tell human stories, you know, so I love quite a lot of them.
And, but I think what Albanian cinema would have been like if there wasn't this censorship, you know, I really wish I could see how they really saw the world at that time.
So and it is our legacy, despite them being produced during the Communist era, so I still want people to look at them, and see their value, and get something out of them.
There are several unique things about Albanian cinema to note.
First, the Albanians were prolific.
By the 1980s, an average of 14 feature films a year were being released, with attendance averaging 20 million annually.
This is huge considering the population was only 2 million strong.
Because most foreign films were banned, Albanians were watching their own national cinema.
Granted, the film content coming out of Albania was being carefully crafted by those in power, who aimed to stay in power.
Films spoke to Albanian nationalism, anti-imperialism, fending off the Fascists, YAY to the Partisans and the Communists.
At the same time,foreign music was banned.
Television sets were almost non-existent.
It was considered a luxury and one needed special permission to own a TV.
As a result, cinema was a major pastime and one of the only accepted forms of entertainment.
These films, however, were rarely seen outside of Albania due to language barriers, among other factors.
The films were not translated into English until very recently: part of restoration efforts enacted through the creation of Albanian Cinema Project, in collaboration with the Albanian National Film Archive.
This endeavor was met with a lot of challenges: lack of funding and time as the reels continued to grow mold facing inevitable disintegration if not stored and preserved properly.
The Albanian Cinema Project was co-founded in 2012 by Iris Elezi, Thomas Logoreci, and Regina Longo, with a goal to restore five films in five years The film reels are at risk of deterioration, being lost forever if not preserved properly.
But it's not just the film strips that would be lost.
It's a rich cultural heritage, a history through language and images representing a specific time and place in the world.
By restoring these films, the Albanian Cinema Project hopes to open up a public conversation amongst Albanians and the outside world, to explore these films in a new light.
The first five films chosen for restoration are: "The Great Warrior Skanderbeg," "The Second of November," "Tomka and His Friends," "Eternity," and "A Tale From The Past."
Heading up the project is filmmaker Iris Elezi, a woman passionate about preserving these cultural treasures.
Iris believes these films are a window to the past, and an opportunity for audiences to see and know about Albania, its culture, and difficult, dark history.
We met Iris at the National Film Archives in Tirana.
Iris is a filmmaker who studied Film Theory and Criticism, Anthropology, and Women's Studies before her studies in Film Production, where she graduated from NYU's Tisch School of the Arts.
Iris's feature debut, “Bota” went on to win multiple awards around the world, and was selected as Albania's Oscar submission for the 2016 Academy Awards race.
Iris teaches film, conducts masterclasses, and remains a mentor and as founder and director of the Albanian Cinematheque remains a mentor to the next generation of Albanian filmmakers.
Given the limited funds, how do you choose which ones, which of the Albanian films that you end up restoring?
[Iris] It's exactly pointing the finger where it hur because I've noticed over the years how the way I speak about the films we need to restore, has changed as well.
In the beginning, it was about our problematic films, that were washed in the wrong chemical bath.
A pain that has plagued the Kino Studio technicians and professionals for over 40 years now.
And just in the past two years, I changed the way I spoke.
I said, “Every one of our films must be restored.” The films we selected initially, were films that would open up Albania to the world.
Because while we have this rich collection of film titles, documentaries, animation, chronicles, feature length films almost nobody knows us outside in the world.
So we made the initial decisions to go, for example, after Xhanfise Keko, a well known woman filmmaker, who made children's films.
Children's films have a bit less propaganda compared to the other films that are very heavy loaded on propaganda.
So on one side, we wanted to bring to the attention of the world that there is national cinema that has its own characteristics That it's a cinema worth studying and knowing.
And on the other side, we also wanted to educate our own people that the cinema that they only find troublesome, actually has a lot of gold in it The first movie theater opened in Shkodër, Albania in 1912, just three months before Albania declared independence.
More theaters were opened, and during the Italian occupation of the early 1940s, the Italians attempted to start a film industry.
Mihallaq Mone made several documentary shorts and tried to direct a feature, "Meeting At The Lake," with an Albanian-Romanian star of the day, actor and tenor Kristaq Antoniu.
This budding film industry was interrupted in 1943 as Germany took over the territory.
With Enver Hoxha's rise in 1944 came a new rise of the Albanian film industry, in which Hoxha saw real potential to influence the hearts and minds of his people.
Hoxha took a cue from both Stalin and Tito's use of cinema as a propagandistic tool.
The first such endeavor was a documentary, "The Commander Visits Central and Southern Albania," which is pretty much as it sound The film follows brave Hoxha around the country.
On July 10th, 1952, the Soviet-built, Albanian Kino Studio was inaugurated.
Hoxha chose six Albanians to tra to Czechoslovakia and the USSR to study filmmaking He was hand-picking and crafting the future of Alban filmic narrative.
[Stephanie] Can you tell me again about who Skanderbeg is, and why he's so important to you So, Skanderbeg is our national h and I think every Albanian loves him, including myself.
He's one of my personal heroes.
Well, I love the fact that, you he was taken from his home, and you know, he was a war hostage in Turkey.
And then he managed to make his way up and become a General.
And they loved him so much that gave him the name █skender be█, because his original name is Gjergj Kastrioti.
So, █skender be█, it's from, its an honor of Alexander the Great.
So he was actually so good that they gave him that name.
[Stephanie's voice] "The Great Warrior Skanderbeg" was the first films chosen for restoration.
In 1953, "The Great Skanderbeg" was the New Albania Film Studio's first feature film co-produced with the USSR, and directed by Russian filmmaker Sergei Yutkevich.
"Skanderbeg" is an epic period piece about Albania's national hero, who was taken to Turkey as a child, though told to always remember his homeland.
He rose through the ranks and gained the trust of the Ottomans.
Skanderbeg returned home to Albania, and for 24 years, led a rebellion against the Ottomans and united the people of Albania.
The Albanians are very proud of this movie, especially the battle scenes.
The film earned the International Prize at Cannes in 1954, and a Special Mention for Directing.
[Rain] It's a really inspiring story to [Stephanie] Did you see it before it had been restored?
Was it a film that was already something you had known about?
[Rain] Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.
Of course.
I mean, since a child, multiple times.
I had seen the film, and I... you know, despite the fact that it wasn't restored, to us it was such an amazing film because of the story itself.
But it's great that they chose to restore it.
[Stephanie's voice] "Tomka And His Friends" is one of the beloved films that older Albanians remember from their youth.
As were most of the movies from this time period, it is a deliberately anti-Fascist film, yet the artistry of Keko's filming and her delicate work with children, makes it as artful as it is propaganda.
It█s a heartfelt and entertaining watch.
Set in Berat around World War Two, with a sweeping orchestral score the film begins with kids playing in an old fort collecting leftover Italian weapons.
When the children see German tanks roll in, a stray Italian soldier asks the children to hide him.
One memorable scene occurs early on in the film, when the kids start singing about how the Germans took over their playground and that they will fight for their playground back, even though they're just kids.
Tomka, the bravest, is chosen as the leader.
All they desire is their freedom This is a powerful message, especially coming from children.
The kids become inconspicuous spies of sorts, who's gathered Intel help the adults blow up the German tanks.
Inspired by "Tomka," I visited the charming town of Berat, locally known as "The City With A Thousand Windows," due to the stacked windows of its photogenic multi-story houses built upon a steep hill.
Berat dates back to the fifth or sixth century BCE, when it was an Illyrian settleme In the third century BCE, it turned into the castle city of Antipatrea.
This castle continued to expand.
Inside were churches with beautiful frescoes and a calligraphy school.
Those who live in the old city center today, still live within the walls of this castle.
I spent a weekend afternoon hiking to the top of the Berat Castle, a UNESCO heritage site, for its preserved Ottoman era architecture, where the movie, “Tomka and His Friends” was shot and now the entire town comes out to picnic, play soccer, and socialize.
I smile as I think of the children in "Tomka And His Friends," scheming and dreaming together, fighting for the freedom of their homeland.
[Iris] So in the late '80s, together with Xhanfise Keko, the director, they go to the Giffoni Film Festival, which is the children's film festival in Italy.
And rightfully so, the Western journalist asked Xhanfise Keko "What is it like to be a woman filmmaker?"
And both of them, a screenplay writer and a gifted filmmaker, have nothing to say.
It was the first time that they had to switch perspective and to start thinking of themselves as women filmmakers.
We lied so well to our culture about women's emancipation during the Hoxha regime, that for them, they were just being filmmakers.
This kind of reasoning also saved myself as a filmmaker because I never saw myself as a woman or a man.
I just saw myself as a filmmaker Said all of that, it is true, most likely many of the Albanians did not pay close attention to Xhanfise Keko films because she was a woman filmmaker.
And it is this kind of dichotomies, paradoxes, on how we look at ourselves and how others are looking at us, that actually makes me want to fight more about studying Albanian cinema and protecting its cinematic legacy.
[Stephanie's voice] In 2001, "Slogans" became the fi Albanian film to be shown at the Director's Fortnight in C "Slogans" is a satirical dramedy It centers around a school teacher who has to choose between one of two Communist slogans to construct onto a hillside, with his class.
A teacher whom he is attracted to ends up with the other slogan He navigates the scorn of the party leaders as he does not take this task very seriously.
Jump cut to 2019, and the gritty short drama "The Van" played at Cannes.
Nominated for the Short Film Palme d'Or.
Some films to come out of the 2020s, include "Two Lions to Venice," "A Cup of Coffee And New Shoes On," "Five Times No," and "Kazerma."
[Rain] Well, I think the themes of the films now have changed from the past.
They are more focused on personal struggles, because despite the fact that we are not in Communism era anymore, we still have a lot of challenge And a lot of people, they are going through, you know, economic issues, socia and there are still, some conservativeship.
You know, Albania is still a bit conservative, you know, so these are, I think, the main themes that filmmakers are focusing about.
[Stephanie's voice] In Tirana, we meet up with filmmaker on the rise, Ajola Daja, a Writer, Director and Producer who founded the A.R.
Production company.
She's a Screenwriting graduate of the Marubi Film School, and she loves the films of Lars von Trier.
Ajola also founded Balkans Gate, an independent video creation platform to support free thinking voices and train journalists in visual storytelling.
Their philosophy is quote: "Fragile democracies like Albania need most the representation of free opinion from the young generation."
Ajola has a robust list of credits.
She was a Producer on the creative documentary, "Light."
She co-wrote the narrative features "Open Door" and "Waterdrop" and has written for a TV series, "The Square Power."
Additionally, Ajola has written, directed and produced her own shorts, including "Matilda," "Made of Dust," "Brother and Sister," and "Ana."
And most notably, her feature film, “Emily.” In Ajola's first short narrative film, "Ana," a teacher becomes obsessed with a student, leading to a torrid affair.
Meanwhile, the teacher's boyfrie wants Ana to marry him.
The boyfriend offers stability, while the student provides passion.
This film has compelling acting, and we see Ajola's talents begin to sprout with her debut short.
In Ajola debut feature narrative film she shows once again, her talents for creating tension filled scenarios for compelling character.
In "Emily," a mother and her young son leave and cross the border to Greece to run away from an abusive husb Our protagonist mother takes refuge with her mother-in-law, who initially calls the police, but the mother-in-law begins to have doubts about reporting on her own son.
"Emily" continues to explore the themes that Ajola is drawn to about women in Albanian society, overcoming difficulties to find their individual freedom Do you think filmmakers today have some sort of obligation to continue to explore the past in Albania?
[Iris] I would be very careful with using concepts of obligation, because this is why our country's cinematic legacy is so controversial, because they were obliged, and because they became part of the system.
My job as a filmmaker and as an archivist is to study these mechanisms.
What I would prefer much better from Albanian filmmakers is a moment of silence.
Is a moment of understanding.
That every image, every cut, every shot contributed to this wonderful mechanism of dreams and propaganda.
That should be the most important thing about Albanian filmmakers.
Finding a moment of silence and understanding their role on something that was bigger than them.
As a professor, one of the things I always push is the artist's responsibility to what we bring to this world.
Especially in this 21st century of ours, which we are overloaded with imagery.
We should really be aware of what we produce.
There are dire consequences.
[Stephanie's voice] While in Albania, I kept hearing about growing calls for Communist era films to be banned.
Some concerned citizens prefer that these films not be shown due to the nature in which they were produced, primarily as Hoxha's propaganda tool in a time when secretive and violent measures were taken his citizens.
Iris and the other filmmakers I talked to vehemently disagreed with this tactic of banning the Ajola put it best when she said that "by banning films, you are only bringing back the Communist style of rule Banning content, isn't that what the dictators did to control the narrative?
Where do we draw the line?
For me personally, I see this as an analogy for many questions facing the world today.
How do we confront our past as a society while still aiming to progress towards a better future?
What do we do when history reveals moments we're not proud of as a society?
Moments where we could have treated our fellow human beings better.
How do we continue the conversation while moving on towards a brighter future?
[Rain] First of all, it is part of the history.
You know, you can't just erase history.
I'm incredibly saddened when I hear what happened during the Communist era, because obviously I wasn't born, you know, so I just heard the stories.
And, it's painful to hear, but to ban the films, it's not the way to go.
First of all, they do have value you know.
So even the films that were made as a propaganda, they, they still hold value to this day.
Not to mention that it is part of the history.
[Iris] Even beyond the lies, for a culture that had a structured, State-oriented cinema, these images of lie are actually our truths.
It is our job not to be naive, to be aware that there was a role why that image was constructed, but still, the humanity that you bring and I bring, and those people, those miners brought, was still However these films were, they accompanied our pain, they accompanied our souls.
There are still the names of actors and directors that we know by heart.
Lines from the films that people still cite.
It meant something to us.
It meant something to sit in the dark and understand you are not alone.
So no matter how problematic this legacy is, it still talks to people, and we should give credit to our audience that they can make the distinction.
I visited the House of Leaves Museum in Tirana, dedicated to the history and artifacts of Albania's secret surveillance program, housed in the old headquarters of the National Intelligence Service.
"Leaves" here have a double meaning: things hidden in the woods, and also the leaves of books that were kept on the people's files stored in these walls.
At the museum, I read more about filmmaking during the Communist era.
"Communist era film production was charged with the task of pre the optimistic and happy face of what was then called Socialist Albania, and Albanians, for their part, were expected to believe in the glorious future guaranteed by the party."
"In reality, the propaganda film industry focused on a highly restricted range of subjects, people and locations."
"People were carefully selected and instructed to appear happy and well dressed."
"The interiors of private homes were manipulated to represent an affluence that was pure fiction, and to hide the extreme poverty that was so prevalent under the regime."
"These films were portraying a false image of Albania."
In 1985, Enver Hoxha died, and Ramiz Alia took over.
There were massive food shortage and in 1990, the Albanians took to the street in protest.
Over 4,500 took refuge in embassies, and many boarded ships to Italy.
Students demonstrated, and in December 1990, opposition parties were allowed for the first time.
Sali Berisha, a Heart Surgeon from the newly formed Democratic Party was elected President in 1992, ending 47 years of Communist rule.
Former President Alia; along with the head of the Socialist Party, Fatos Nano; were later arrested, and Albania became a free market free for all.
In 1996, many Albanians lost their life saving due to a pyramid investment scheme.
Riots ensued and Nano was released from prison, becoming President, and then a mini civil war happened in 1997.
The transition from being completely closed off for half of the 20th century...to an open Democratic society, has been rocky at times.
But things have opened up and Albania has continued to navigate this transition from the 2000s through today.
[Stephanie's voice] Iris Elezi and Thomas Logoreci's film "Bota" thematically plays with this transition anxiety.
It is set in an isolated Albanian town, the site of a Communist era internment camp.
During the Hoxha years, family members of those imprisoned by the secret police often relocated and put into internment camps.
"Bota," set in present day, deals with the now adult children of people who were executed.
They don't always know the full of what happened to their parent's generation.
"Bota" plays with intermingling the past with the present, and poses questions about lingering traumas.
How do societies survive?
How do we go on?
How to reckon with a politically dark past and a culturally rich heritage?
[Stephanie] One moment that really stood out for me was when the two friends and the cousin, cousin/boyfriend are on the roof, and, kind of casually talking about history.
And the girlfriend/friend character says something like, "oh, I find history amusing."
And and he says, well, "Try living through it."
And, Rain's parent's generation is going to think about the history different than Rain's generation versus Rain's kids' generation.
So, it's how do we teach history and how do we approach history, and how do we remember history?
And none of these are necessarily "answerable" questions.
[Iris] You pointed out one of the most important scenes.
We shot it as one long take, fighting against the sun and the wind, with the whole team going crazy because, the sound designer was... the sound engineer wanted to kill us because of the wind.
But it was amazing.
Exactly for the chemistry you speak of, about two generations coming together, trying to tell a story that is so simple I read someday in a newspaper, but that embodied all the pain I speak of when we think of my country.
There was a great lesson for me in regards to directing the actors, because the older actor did not want to act the scene.
It's exactly the line, "Try living with it"... "through it," that he was refusing.
And, thank God, I've been very fortunate to work for two weeks, with Judith Westo the guru of actors.
And she always told us, in the mysterious lines, in the resistance lines, is where the gold is.
You have to make it through.
So I noticed in our rehearsals that Artur Gorishti, the character of Beni, was fighting that line.
And that█s when I knew that it was too close to heart.
But I do believe in your unanswerable questions, I believe that the answer is to go truthfully.
Gyula Gazdag says, "To make a film, you have to rule the universe."
All what we can do is go truthfully at what we are going at.
Through it all.
And it's this quest for truth that makes me want to make films and try to save this archive.
Because if we go on deleting, what we don't like, we will continue to be these cultures who don't grow.
[Stephanie's voice] I had the pleasure of exploring some of Albania's ancient ruins.
We always hear about the archeological sites in ancient Greece and Rome, but I had never heard of the sites in Albania, and they're every bit as worthy.
Butrint, on the southern tip of Albania, is the site of an ancient settlement, 2000 years old.
Imagine walking through a place occupied by the Greeks, the Romans, early Christians, the Byzantines the Venetians, to Ali Pasha and the Ottomans.
Legend has it that Butrint was founded by Trojan exiles Helenus and Andromache after the fall of Troy.
And in Virgil's epic poem The Aeneid, he writes of Aeneas visiting the exiles at Butrint on his way to Italy.
Butrint is a UNESCO site within a national park.
Situated in a forest surrounded by water, wildflowers blossom everywhere, purples and whites; old fortifications with multiple layers that that show the different centurie Granite blocks versus large stones, small statues versus brick.
It all adds to the unique texture of the place.
My favorite was the Greek-turned Roman amphitheater.
I went on stage imagining I was an actress in Hellenistic times.
█ Albania is also home to ancient Apollonia on the west coast near the town of Fier.
Apollonia, named for the God Apollo was founded by the Greeks during the first half of the 6th century BCE and grew into a city state which minted its own currency.
Under the Romans it became a cultural center with a renowned philosophy school.
Julius Caesar sent his nephew Octavius to complete his studies here.
As I explored the ruins, I noted the signposts on display "Here is the theater," "the library," "the shop."
Then I stumbled upon a bunker and thought, this should be signposted too.
"This is from the Dictatorship of Enver Hoxha.” "It shows what ego and use of power to instill fear can do to a country."
"Its legacy remains."
Many people they don't know about Albania, but we do have a lot of stories to tell.
So I would like to contribute a little bit and tell some of those stories.
[Stephanie] So do you think you making films for primarily an Albanian audience, or are you trying to make films for an international audience to show the world more about Albania?
[Rain] Yeah, I think mostly the latter, because Albania has a... It's a very, very old country.
So it does have a history that goes back thousands of year So now we have a collection of all these stories and all this history coming together And then, you know, we were under Turkey for 500 years.
Then we were a Communist country for 50 years.
So now Albania is in a place where it's trying to find its way because it has always been suppressed.
So, there are a lot of places that even for me as an Albanian, when I go or I hear about the stories, it's something new and something different.
That I would like to share.
Do you have an idea of what your next film is going to be?
[Rain] I'm writing the script.
I'm working on it now.
And again, it█s a personal story about Albania.
But I would like to focus on the period, which is a bit dark in Albania, which is 1997, which is when the anarchy and, civil war happened in Albania.
But I will not focus on a story of an individual, you know, and just see events through the eyes of one person, rather than just making this vague historical film.
Since visiting Rain in Tirana, she followed her dreams to make her second film, The Dream Keeper.
Maybe, perhaps You want to discover?
To explore what's left.
To discover.
You would be surprised.
Rain wrote, directed, produced, edited and composed music for her award winning short film The Dream Keeper.
Doran walks through a forest and comes upon a place where rocks float in the air all around him.
Dreamlike.
In fact, he is searching for his lost dreams.
Dawn stumbles upon a demon, or an angel, or a dream keeper who keeps watch over all these unfilled dreams.
Will Doran be able to fulfill his own?
The Dream Keeper is a lovely allegory of the lengths we go to chase our own dreams, and what happens when we're finally ready to commit.
The movie utilizes Albania's unique landscape to create a fantasy world that we enter in hopes to follow our dreams to.
Albania is one of my favorite places I'd never thought to go.
And boy, am I glad I did.
I love the uniqueness of this unexpected journey.
From the underground bunkers to the above ground gusto.
Meeting the friendliest people, hospitable, always up for a good time and a hearty meal.
It was such a joy to meet Rain and Iris.
Learning about their challenges while championing their continued perseverance towards creating, honoring and preserving cinematic storytelling.
What I admire most about Rain and Iris is their courage to keep the dialogue open, to explore and expand the discourse of what it means to be human, striving for the best path forward.
And sharing their stories of a homeland, full of heart.
To learn more about the Cinema Nomad Filmmakers and dive deeper into the exciting world of global cinema, visit our website: CinemaNomad.TV

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