“One of the year’s most surprisingly moving documentaries.”

There’s a fantastic joke in an early episode of The Simpsons where the iconic family’s patriarch sets out to buy a new car. Strapped for cash, he seeks out the cheapest option, which leads him to a dealership where he is shown a horrendously poorly crafted jalopy from “a country that no longer exists”, which turns out to be a less-than-ideal model. A hilarious moment that unsurprisingly has its roots in reality in the form of the Yugo, a car that was produced in the now-dissolved Yugoslavia. It became a symbol of the latter end of the regime, with its manufacturing starting the same year that Josip Broz Tito died, making it a bitter irony that he never got to see the success of arguably his country’s most important export at the time. This car is the subject of Yugo Goes to America, in which Aleksa Borkovic and Filip Grujic (making their directorial debuts) attempt to explore the car’s history from both a technical and historical perspective. Their approach is simple – make their way to the United States, where the model was surprisingly popular for a period of time, and set out on a cross-country trip in one of these cars. They travel from coast to coast in an effort to meet and talk to people who have memories of the Yugo, ranging from ordinary civilians who fondly reminisce on these vehicles, to the manufacturers and businesspeople who were involved in making the Yugo an unexpected success that didn’t last long, for reasons made clear in this film. A wonderfully offbeat movie that blends humor and heartfulness in its efforts to dissect every aspect of these cars, whether it’s their popularity or their historical significance (neither of which can be dismissed), and sets the foundation for one of the year’s most surprisingly moving documentaries.

It has been said that the best way to understand the past is not through the achievements or the writings, but rather the objects that were a part of people’s daily lives. History is written by the victors, but there’s so much more to be said about a culture that doesn’t rely on fawning accounts of heroism and valour (which are often just thinly veiled attempts to rewrite the past); instead it can be seen through the lens of those unexpected elements that defined a population by becoming a part of their routine. At a glance, Yugo Goes to America seems like an oddity, since it is about a pair of young filmmakers deciding to visit the United States to understand how a car that was always viewed as a cheaply made, crude way of getting places came to symbolize something much deeper and more profound. The idea of exploring this car through the perspective of people from across the world allows the film to develop a far more insightful approach, especially since we come to realise that this film is not solely about the Yugo itself, but what it represented, becoming as much about the former Yugoslavia as about American life, investigating the cultural mythologies of both countries at the time and underlining some fascinating similarities. It proves to be an unexpectedly captivating story of international relations, especially if we take into account the era being explored. The 1980s were a tense time in global politics, to the point where this film even remarks that Yugoslavia was labelled the “good Communists” in the United States, an excuse many people here use to justify employing their products and resources. It becomes a riveting tale of two different countries as told primarily through the eyes of the younger generation, who reflect on the past and highlight the connections between people who bond over shared memories, even if it is all in relation to the supposed “worst car in history”, which has become a badge of honor in many ways.

It’s undeniable that Yugo Goes to America is a very unconventional film, since even the premise itself indicates that this is not aiming to be a sombre or complex affair. Much like the subject matter, Borkovic and Grujic refuse to take themselves too seriously. Both men were born during the period when Yugoslavia was gradually being dissolved as a result of social and political factors, from within the country and externally, which in itself offers a fascinating cultural history that makes for rich discussion. From its first moments, which are tinged with mischievous humour as the directors establish their reasons for making this film, Yugo Goes to America proves to be a playful affair, with both the topic and its execution being filtered through a lightweight lens, an approach that seems so much more appropriate than the dour, grave style often applied to historical works of non-fiction, especially about countries with complex pasts. However, an upbeat style does not preclude the film from making some fascinating correlations between eras, since the history of Yugoslavia is still very much the focus and is just examined through a slightly more unorthodox lens, which actually proves effective since we never quite know what to expect. The directors approach this subject from the perspective of an unconventional travelogue, taking a simple premise of driving across the United States, and creating what becomes a visual essay about how two countries that could not be more different (whether in terms of geography, politics or culture) also happen to have a shared history with this car, which opens the film up for some fascinating discussion. The cheerful, sardonic tone is complemented by a vaguely nostalgic appreciation for the past, with even the most fervent critics of the Yugo still looking back fondly on the car and what it represents.

Yugo Goes to America is not the most thorough or detailed depiction of the political discourse at the time (it is, after all, essentially just about two young men travelling across the United States in a car that keeps breaking down, and meeting a range of people along the way), but there are fascinating elements that point towards something more meaningful in the intentions behind this film. It is primarily a playful glimpse into the past, where the offbeat tone matches the strange but intriguing subject matter. It starts as a story of the past told through the objects that defined it, but it eventually grows into an oddly personal tale of a vehicle that was once relentlessly mocked but has now become a beloved symbol of a particular moment in history. In crafting a cross-continental cultural odyssey, Borkovic and Grujic try to answer the question: how could a car become so definitive of a particular moment in not only its native country, but also in the United States, particularly at a time when global tensions were at their peak? The solution is obvious in that, regardless of political and cultural differences, consumers in both Yugoslavia and abroad hold a deep affection for the Yugo, extending across entire continents and generations. Like its subject matter, Yugo Goes to America is much more than a peculiar novelty, setting out to examine a fascinating topic and proving to be a delightful crowd-pleaser built around demonstrating how an economic symbol somehow managed to become an icon of an entire era.