Rampart: Fractured Memories of Belgrade

Everyone who still has their VCR tapes from the 1980s and 1990s is probably holding a real time capsule of the era (the fashions, the hairstyles, the commercials). That was true of filmmaker Marko Grba Singh, who grew up in Belgrade during the Kosovo War. Returning to his family’s former apartment, he found a box of tapes that he transformed into the experimental documentary Rampart, which screens tomorrow and Saturday in New York.

For the pre-teen Singh, his family’s apartment was like a fortress (hence the title). As the fighting intensified, the extended clan clearly came together, with the intention of shielding the children as best they could. In fact, the camcorder footage, mostly shot by Singh’s grandfather, often has the vibe of a family reunion or a sleepover.

However, it is clear everyone is trying to herd the kids (and the pets) towards the interior of the flat. Obviously, this was a time to stay in-doors, which gives Rampart additional resonance in the days after the Wuhan-inspired Covid lockdowns. Yet, the Belgrade stores were still open and buying advertising time, as some of the commercials Signh incorporates will duly attest.

Regardless, we know what it is like to be stuck inside. They had better reason in 1999 Belgrade. However, they still were not in the sort of peril Sarajevo experienced, when it was terrorized by Bosnian-Serb separatist snipers, as Sejla Kameric dramatized in the experimental 1395 Days Without Red (because color would draw the shooters’ attention). Ironically, both films would pair well together, due to their roughly one hour running times and avant-garde sensibilities.

When Singh films himself revisiting the empty flat, it is clear the space holds many memories, or ghosts, for him. Presumably, he directly associates the space with a very particular time in his country’s history. Viewers can get a sense of those times from his grandfather’s choice of camcorder subjects, which frequently included footage of NATO air-strikes, as they happened. We also see Singh and his mother taking refuge in Romania, which she tried to present as a vacation, even though his father could not join them, because he would have been conscripted at the border by the regime.

Rampart is never explicitly political. It is intended as a contemplation regarding the power and deterioration of memory—especially Singh’s. Yet, it is a reminder regular Serbians have yet to get the sort of decent government they need to lead better live. Widespread protests continue on the streets against the contested “re-election” of Aleksandar Vucic (who has steadfastly refused to implement sanctions against Russia). Regardless, Rampart opens an interesting window into Singh’s wartime childhood. It is not for conventional audiences, but it is a thoughtful cinematic essay. Recommended for fans of experimental film, Rampart screens tomorrow (1/26) at the Harriman Institute and Saturday (1/27) at Anthology Film Archives.