The heaviness that hangs in the air before a big downpour — a heaviness drenched with ominous expectations and futile foreboding — is exactly the precipitous mood that Before the Rain so effectively captures. This Macedonian film, which was a recent Oscar nominee and the winner of the top prize at 1994’s Venice Film Festival, is moored in the storm of the centuries-old Balkan conflict. Admittedly, the treacherous maze of ethnic, nationalist, religious, and economic hatreds and allegiances linking the Balkan states are often confusing and difficult for the outsider to grasp. For the residents (citizens, refugees, prisoners, victims, natives… fill in the blank with whatever words you find appropriate) also, I venture that the rationales and historic justifications propping up all the civil strife have been obscured by the pain of personal injustice, betrayal, and attack experienced on a daily basis. The personal and psychic wounds are immediate, visceral, and focused. And because the violations are personal, sides must be chosen. These kinds of personal consequences provide the material that makes up Before the Rain. The movie is composed in three sections, each with its own story, though by the movie’s end, you witness the inter-connectedness of all three. The first part is titled “Words” and tells the story of a young Macedonian monk who has taken a vow of silence. A young Albanian girl takes refuge at his monastery and the consequences prove cataclysmic. Part two is called “Faces” and takes place in London, where a photo editor is torn between her feelings for her estranged husband and her lover — a world-weary yet passionate combat photographer. A random act of violence makes her choice for her. In “Pictures,” part three, the same photographer returns to his native Macedonia and finds himself drawn into the violence he thought he left behind as a war correspondent. Nothing is the same as when he left; friends have become enemies, and relatives have become strangers. Allegiances must be declared, sides must be chosen; there is no other option in this universe. After years of study in the U.S. (where he also directed the award-winning music video “Tennessee” for Arrested Development), director and writer Manchevski returned to his native Macedonia to film Before the Rain. With its cagey temporal structure, incredible cinematography that exposes the craggy landscape, beautiful performances, and a thematic structure that adds to our understanding of both specific and universal issues, Manchevski has made a most impressive debut with Before the Rain.
This article appears in April 14 • 1995 (Cover).
