This mode of non-verbal interaction between characters, however, fits the general mould of the European filmmaking tradition based on thoughts and ideas, rather than the American model based on actions. In Estonian films the protagonists' inner struggles are utmost, rather like in large part of the European art house cinema. The lack of finances has restricted Estonia (and also, up to now, the other Baltic States) from producing credible genre films, and the films that have excelled fall largely into the art house cinema category. Even in action-based films the characters seem to be more balanced than their counterparts in other film cultures.

{niftybox background=#8FBC8F, width=360px} Disruption is also a word to describe human relations in the Estonian film tradition (often this is what you get, when you base you relationships on not speaking). Comedies are few and far between, and the ones that are made, are more or less uniformly local in nature and don't translate at all between cultures. The darkly tragi-comedic effect of disruptive relationships has lately been quite successfully expressed by Veiko Õunpuu in his three films Autumn Ball (Sügisball, 2007), The Temptation of St. Tony (Püha Tõnu kiusamine, 2010) and Free Range (2013), coupled with truly acerbic socio-critical statements about the nature of things in the modern capitalist world.{/niftybox}

Disruptive seems also to be the word to describe a "generation" of Estonian filmmakers, the ones who started making films in this century. To some extent the same critical notions apply, that have sometimes been used to describe New German Cinema of the 70s: there is no other synchronicity between the different authors of that movement, besides their common political, social and historical background. During a master class, the renowned Serbian director Goran Paskaljevic lamented that small cultures can only be defined by one filmmaker (implying Emir Kusturica of course, rather than himself). That seems to be true in case of several Scandinavian countries, where the leading filmmakers have shaped the whole rhetoric of film (Iceland, Denmark, Finland) and the examples are easily found elsewhere in Europe as well. There has not been a fundamentally game-changing figure in Estonian film: recent successes of Veiko Õunpuu might allow us to mark him as that figure, not that it is anything he would assume for a minute himself.

Lithuanian auteur cinema can be defined by Šarūnas Bartas, a man who is strangely enough more famous abroad than in his homeland. In the 1990s he adopted the European modernist cinema style of long takes, fragmentary narrative, minimalism in acting and desolate, barren locations). His films came to signify the painful transition in the 90, his protagonists being disconnected and alienated from everyday life due to some personal trauma.

Bartas' schoolmate in the Moscow film school VGIK was Laila Pakalniņa, a Latvian auteur, who would later grow to become Latvia's leading arthouse director with films like "The Shoe", that was screened in the Un Certain Regard program of the Cannes film festival in 1998.

There is of course danger in every such generalization to dismiss the idiosyncrasies, mavericks and outlaws of a clearly defined film culture. The Soviet heritage as a common background seems to hold though, even among the younger generation of filmmakers, who are stepping on stage now with their debuts. Martti Helde's impressive In the Crosswinds (Risttuules, 2014) utilizes a black and white tableau vivant technique to address the national collective subconscious and to take us back to the deportations that took place in the 1940s – events that the nation wants to simultaneously remember and forget.

{niftybox background=#8FBC8F, width=360px} Lithunian young filmmakers have recently successfully entered the genre film market, best example of what would be Kristina Buožytė's "Vanishing Waves" (also known under the name "Aurora"), what managed to win prizes at several key genre festivals. Another Lithuanian female director, who has turned a lot of heads lately is Alanté Kavaïté, who won Best Director in Sundance for his latest, "The Summer of Sangaile" (2015), that was the first ever Lithuanian film to compete there. It also marks a movement in recent Lithuanian cinema towards more urban themes (as opposed to the predominantly rural settings of the Soviet era), attempting to define and chart the modern citiscape and people's role in it. {/niftybox}

UNITY?

One of the big discussions regarding Baltic cinema has been whether we should promote ourselves as one – Baltic Films – or if it makes more sense to the outside world to see us as three separate entities: Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. We might perceive ourselves as a compact unit, but that might be underestimating the general film watching public. Western criticism has also been known to see us as "culturally and linguistically distinct from one another"³

The whole idea of a unified Europe holding hands as equals is a laughably naïve narrative. There will never be a unified Europe, because the whole mythology of Europe drives largely on the dichotomy of the East and the West (often unfair generalizations in their own right). This is the struggle we are witnessing now in the turbulent everyday political events of today, and this will most likely never cease to exist. In times like these, do we really need another generalization? The pan-European co-production models have in their cross-financing frenzy lost all the purpose of filmmaking from their sights, giving way to a coinage of such terms as "euro-porridge" and "euro-pudding" signifying the hollowness of such productions. Coming from fifty years of a supreme cult, where personality and originality was shunned, I would argue against any other over-the-board level switching of the kind. Of course, the house looks nicer, when all the windows look exactly the same, but if we are to reflect something, let it be more than "the objective reality". Let everyone showcase his or her own smudges and cracks and dirt. It makes us unique.

It is a call to strong producers and filmmakers to steer the ship with a steady hand and use the mutual financing platforms to everyone's best benefit, without losing the "authorship" to "democratic vote". Lithuanian Ignas Jonytas' "The Gambler" (2013) set a strong and successful example in feature films, being a Lithuanian-Latvian co-production, followed, I hear, by several others. Latvians had previously also worked together with Estonia on Janno Põldma's and Heiki Ernits' Lotte animation franchise, partnering up once again for the coming third full-length in the series. I hope that the co-operation will continue, but I also hope that when, for example a Latvian animations "Rocks in my Pockets" (by Signe Baumane) won two prizes in Karlovy Vary last year, it was considered a victory for Latvia, and only then, a win for the whole Baltic region. Every country deserves to have their heroes. Seems that all the Baltic countries are now ready to start carving out their own identity in the eyes and minds of the film industry and the audience.

{niftybox background=#8FBC8F, width=360px} Especially, as all three are reaching to heights that have been unobtainable until now: Estonia upped the stakes in the beginning of 2015 with the first ever Best Foreign Film academy award nomination for "Tangerines" (Zaza Urushadze, 2014). {/niftybox}

The Baltics is and will be a comfortable umbrella for the festivals to organize retrospective focuses of the countries, as our own film industries might be too small to provide a competitive special program, but it is absolutely essential to make the necessary distinctions inside a broader category. So that we might then be able to dismiss the national categories altogether, and handle the film texts as such, as personal artistic statements of the authors.

TRISTAN PRIIMÄGI
Tristan Priimägi works as a film editor in an Estonian cultural weekly paper SIRP, is involved in many local and international film-related projects, and is always looking out for more challenges
First published in Eastern Promises. Nuevos cines de Europa Central y de Este. Published by San Sebastian Film Festival, 2014, 277 pages.