The feature-length debutant from Serbia, Marko Đorđević, presented himself with this twisted film, for which I still cannot decide whether to classify it as a drama, black comedy or tragicomedy. It is best to describe “My Morning Laughter”, a small intimate film set in Kragujevac as a strange combination of all that. The main character of the film is 28-year-old history professor Dejan (Filip Đurić), even an irritatingly antisocial and withdrawn guy who still lives with his mother Radica (Jasna Đuričić) and an eternally drunk old man for whom we don’t even know who he is. We quickly realize that Dejan is one of those guys whose overly protective mom made an extra moron, but he doesn’t seem to be complaining too much. He sticks like his mother’s clinging, constantly dragging himself like a dead blower, acting as if it’s hard and hard for him to talk at all.
To see what happened to her son, mom will take him to a local psychic (genius Nebojsa Glogovac in his unfortunately last role), who will clearly tell him that it would be best to fuck something because it is not normal that he is a junfer with so many years and that he will feel much better after that. Although Dejan is not exactly the type around whom girls would land, his colleague from the Kaća school (Ivana Vuković) still recognized in him a man worthy of attention. It’s hard to tell if he recognizes it at all or not, maybe he recognizes it, but he’s too withdrawn, shy, even terrified to take the first step, but luckily Kaca is much more enterprising. Dijk’s junfic will finally burst in one of the most bizarre and unusual sex scenes I’ve ever seen in a movie (I don’t count porn!), And although “My Morning Laughter” has some weird poetics, this bizarre, minimalist, even chamber movie is not special to me. sat down.
The whole film consists of several extremely long shots taken with a static camera, often from some rather strange, completely unusual angles. I’m still not clear about this story seriously or not, because although the environment, the interiors of the houses (those typical houses that seem to still be from the time of socialism) and the characters, fit into some social realism, it seems to me a bit like a parody of a generation almost incapable of their own lives. To a generation of young people from whom their overly protective parents have made morons. It’s a weird mix of serious social drama and bizarre, weird, subtle black comedy that stands out in both style and theme, a constant sense of unease about that irritating, sloppy protagonist who should have been slapped well when he was a kid so I guess he shouldn’t was such a gengavac.
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