The Interview
Mirjana Jokovic
By John Koch, Boston Globe
When did you know acting was your calling?
Right away. There are professions that you don't choose, but they choose you. I started acting when I was 9, in the theater, and when I was 10, I was playing in a movie. I was really addicted to that world. It looked like organized chaos that had a purpose. There were wonderful people who had the braveness and freedom to take risks. When I was 16, I went to the academy [the Belgrade Academy of Dramatic Arts]. I knew then I can't do anything else.
Are you well known in Eastern Europe?
I was fortunate to be part of some exquisite projects in this last decade, considering what was going on in Yugoslavia politically. I am well known in my country [Serbia]. I won't say I'm a huge star, but people know about me.
Many of the films are soaked in violence, hate. Is it hard to act in this sort of picture?
I think it is, for me. Making Vukovar, I was in a war zone, literally. Different rules apply during a fight for survival, which this was. I was in pain to see how much pain people could live with. What hurt most was seeing little kids with the faces of grown-up people - their physiognomies were of people who went through pain and were ready to go through more. It changed my life. I witnessed heartbreaking things that I thought could never happen. You're responsible for that knowledge; you have to translate for others what you have seen.
As a Serb, do you feel misperceived?
For 10 years, Serbs were represented as kind of a tribal, weird people doing unbelievable things, and suddenly those people had the smoothest revolution this summer. Not one dead body was found in the street. I cannot tell you what a difference it is after this summer in the way people behave, in their questions. It makes you feel better after almost 10 years of defending yourself. There were good, sane people who are always there fighting the horrible things, and finally their voices were heard. Artists can bring some hope and defend those good things, and my challenge in all those terrible years was that I never wanted to give up on the goodness in my people.
Does Mother Courage reflect your history?
This play - about showing devastation and what it means surviving in war, losing a son, brother, father, mother - can be quite shocking. It's a big provocation. I'm looking forward to how this production [of the 1941 Bertolt Brecht drama] is going to be accepted. I play the mute daughter, Kattrin. There are moments in life when words are used only to cover the real truth, and being mute and unable to voice certain things almost gives you a freedom to show what you think.
Can art change people or countries?
Usually, art is maintaining the status quo. But when artists are truthfully trying to understand themselves, they can send some message to somebody else or at least give them a green light to think differently, to perceive differently, to accept that it's OK to be sad, to cry, that it's OK that we are not perfect. We live in a society where people are under such pressure to succeed. Art can give you permission to meet your own humanity. Sometimes, in the speed of life, we lose contact with ourselves. We forget what we like. We function in a kind of perpetual motion, and then suddenly there can be some movie or painting or performance that can stop you like a red light, and you can say, "My God, what have I been doing all this time?" It's a beautiful thing. It's your luck if you can find a certain show or project that evokes that.
What do you do well as an actor, and what needs work?
I don't know, really. Acting is an endless job, and you are learning all your life with your life. The more mature you become, you are achieving new truths. You can always improve everything. Since I am in the process of becoming a US citizen, I am thinking about my accent. If I would like to broaden opportunities, I will have to work on it.
Would you like to do a big Hollywood movie?
I wouldn't mind to do a big-budget movie, but believe me, that's not my priority in life. I would love to be satisfied when I come home from work. I used to think that everything I did was so important; I learned to outgrow that. Now, it's just about trying to do the work in a way that you won't regret later.
You treat acting as a kind of priesthood and actors as soul doctors.
Yes, right. That's pretty serious. I do think that, but maybe I'm afraid to say it because it sounds pretentious. I know that a couple of times in my life when I had tough moments, certain films lifted me up and I went home happy and had wonderful dreams and woke up in the morning and had a good cup of coffee and I was happy. Andrei Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev was such a film, and Wings of Desire. If something gets into your heart, it can soften your being. As much as to be tough, it's very important to be fragile sometimes. We develop our defenses in order not to get hurt, but we have to face the truth about our fragility and sensitivity and accept and live with that. If we lose that softness, we can miss the crucial nuances of our lives.
|
