FILMATIQUE: Lost Exile traces the intersecting trajectories of Emir, a Serbian smuggler, and Hana, a Kosovar woman eager to make it across the border to Europe. The film's tension derives not only from a clandestine journey the two characters reluctantly make together, but also from the fact that, as an attractive woman, Hana is immediately identified by Emir's employers as more valuable inside a prostitution ring. How did you conceive of these characters, and what motivated you to explore the topic of migration through a narrative lens rather than, say, a documentary format?
FISNIK MAXHUNI: In fact, the question of whether make a documentary or fiction film never crossed my mind: I grew up with VHS tapes of famous films and thus, until the age of 24, a film was necessarily a fiction object. But also, since the subject of Lost Exile is still a hot and current topic, I wanted to treat it as a fiction film, in order to avoid being judged on the accuracy of the theme. I wrote the original story after having spent months with people—mostly women—on the roads that lead to their imagined paradise: Europe. But it was very important that the script—and the final film—have an original take on the subject, thus the idea to concentrate on two characters, at opposite ends of the scope.
Of course, as the subject of illegal immigration is intimately linked to my own personal story, I had to appropriate the subject and make it match with my own vision of cinema. And that's basically my vision of cinema: there is no film if there is no personal take on the subject(s) you're dealing with. This might be a very "European" way of seeing cinema, but I also believe that today's best Hollywood and American productions have an original point of view that comes directly from the director's vision (examples of Beach Rats, You Were Never Really Here, Dallas Buyers Club, Blade Runner 2049 all come to mind). This vision doesn't only apply to fiction films. I also made three documentaries in the last three years, and I have instilled a sort of "personal vision" in all of them.
FLMTQ: You remark in your director's statement that your own family's migration from Kosovo in 1993 served as a touchstone for the film—despite key differences, like your parents' inability to research such a trip with present technologies, many aspects remain the same between then and now. Can you elaborate on your inspiration for telling this story, and how your personal experiences both related to and diverged from the world we see onscreen?
FM: I believe a director's choice of a subject ultimately comes down to something visceral that the director needs to talk about. It is a tough process to spend years researching, writing, directing and promoting a film, so it better be something that makes you want to continue the process until it's over. Lost Exile is intimately linked to my own history—20 years later, I noticed that people were still eager to take tremendous risks to get to Europe, but also that the situation had changed. And when I started to research the topic in 2014, I saw that the risks were somehow greater, because of the fact that there were so many new elements in the process of illegal immigration.
In particular, I got to know several women who were at different stages of their immigration plans: some were still thinking about it from Kosovo, some were already on the road but had been caught up in prostitution rings, and some were already settled in Europe, and while different their stories had some similar aspects. That is why the main subjects I deal with in Lost Exile are those of abandonment (of the home country), the uncertainty of immigration and finally and the disenchantment of a new life. All of this encapsulated in the trajectory of Hana, my main character. But also, from the perspective of Emir, the driver, being caught up with less scrupulous individuals was a dear subject to me, as he is finally also a victim of the whole process of illegal immigration.