“A quiet and meditative look at the physical and emotional journey of a young man whose life was forcibly defined by others.”

The process of returning home can be either joyful or deeply sad, depending on the context and the circumstances surrounding the event and how it all unfolds. We can view the story of Nasmija as a combination of both, considering that he spent most of his life caught in between countries. This reached the point where he began to wonder where his homeland truly was, something he needed to establish before even attempting to return, a process far more daunting than anyone could fathom from a distance. Born to Roma parents in Germany, but forced to spend many years in war-torn Kosovo, he had to live in squalid conditions while also wondering whether he would ever see his family again. His story is the subject of I Saw a ‘Suno’, the second feature by Katalin Bársony, who follows Nasmija and his family over several years, tracking his gradual return home and the challenges that he faced in the process. A well-crafted spiritual successor to her debut How Far the Stars, which also sees the director drawing from her own Roma origins, the film is a quiet and meditative look at the physical and emotional journey of a young man whose life was forcibly defined by others, showing the importance of giving someone a homeland, if for nothing else than just to allow them to feel a sense of belonging; unfortunately not a guarantee, even in the contemporary era.

There are essentially two conceptual strands that guide I Saw a ‘Suno‘, and while they are inextricably linked, they do prove to be fascinating when we also consider them in isolation. The first is a sweeping historical account of the conflicts surrounding Kosovo over recent years, particularly in how both Serbia and Albania have asserted their belief that the region belongs to them. However, the perspective that anchors this film is from neither side, but rather from the natives of Kosovo, particularly the Roma population that found themselves most disadvantaged, becoming displaced and having their very existence rendered almost invalid in the process. This ties into the second theme, which is a deeply personal exploration of the people, with Nasmija being only one of several thousand natives who suffered in the process. There is something very valuable about a film that is willing to take a concept as broad as violent conflict between nations, and allow us to see it through the most human lens imaginable, stripping away any attempt to take a side and instead focusing entirely on the victims who did not choose to be involved, but nonetheless become pawns for the cruel, unreasonable actions of those who simply want to assert their power regardless of the cost or consequences.

Bársony’s clear fascination for the subject is matched only by her willingness to create a nuanced and complex portrait of this young man’s journey, following his physical attempts to return home, as well as showing the challenges he faced when processing the emotions, by no means an easy feat to capture on film. I Saw a ‘Suno’ is a documentary about the triumph of the human spirit, and how resilience is sometimes all one can depend on in times of immense crisis. The film explores the role an individual can play in forging a national identity and a shared history, through the perpetual search for a sense of belonging and ultimately a home, whether it is physical or metaphorical. In the case of this story, both are equally applicable, achieved through the use of some immersive camera work and a structure that carefully plays with time to create a vivid, complex portrait of not only the conflict surrounding Kosovo, but also the deeply personal testimony of Nasmija and his family. The director is careful about how she approaches the emotions throughout this film, particularly in how she portrays the act of returning home, which can be both an enormous relief and a deeply painful experience. Particularly since homecoming is not always a joyful event, but rather a major adjustment in which the person who left is rarely the same when they come back. This can be viewed as the ultimate thesis statement of the film as a whole.

I Saw a ‘Suno’ constantly asks whether it is possible to feel a connection to a home that you were told was never yours to begin with – and even while it isn’t explicitly mentioned, the film does look beyond the confines of this particular setting, making a statement on more than just the situation in Kosovo. This makes it a far more timely, relevant work than we may expect. Its simplicity could be viewed as either a merit or a shortcoming depending on how each individual viewer perceives its approach to exploring these themes, but it’s difficult not to see the profound compassion and sincere willingness to peer beneath the surface, commenting on issues far deeper than suggested at the start. It’s a powerful film, even when it’s not always able to flesh out all of its ideas, or when it takes a short while for us to acclimate to Bársony’s style of storytelling, which can be slightly abrasive at first. This was a challenge any director would face when having to carve a 90-minute narrative from fifteen years of footage. However, the story being told is essential, especially considering how rarely we see the war in Kosovo as the basis for such a film. Well-crafted and deeply personal, I Saw a ‘Suno’ is a solid documentary with strong ideas and the uncanny ability to take such a specific story and render it universal in many ways, making the intimate connections between the past and present extremely clear.