In The Uncle, Croatian directors David Kapac and Andrija Mardešić transform the intimacy of a family reunion into a slow, unnerving allegory about control, repetition, and the lingering trauma of totalitarianism. What begins as a seemingly harmless Christmas gathering gradually reveals itself as a meticulously orchestrated performance — a ritual of obedience disguised as domestic celebration.
| Movie Details | The Uncle (Stric) |
|---|---|
| Country | Croatia |
| Year | 2022 |
| Genre | Psychological Drama, Dark Comedy |
| Runtime | 104 min |
| Director | David Kapac, Andrija Mardešić |
| Main Actors | Predrag Miki Manojlović, Ivana Roščić, Goran Bogdan |
Set in a 1980s suburban home that feels both familiar and disturbingly sterile, the film follows a family preparing a traditional feast for the return of their “uncle,” a charismatic yet menacing figure who demands perfection in every gesture. As the story unfolds, the cyclical structure of the day — the greetings, the meals, the gifts — becomes a prison of ritual, where the family’s smiles start to crack and a suffocating sense of surveillance takes over.
Kapac and Mardešić’s direction is precise, stylized, and darkly humorous. The camera lingers on details — the turkey carving, the polite laughter, the constant toasts — until the repetition becomes unbearable. The effect is both absurd and chilling, like a cross between Dogtooth and The Celebration, but deeply anchored in the post-Yugoslav atmosphere of nostalgia and paranoia.
The performances are strikingly controlled. Predrag Miki Manojlović, as the titular uncle, embodies a patriarchal power that is both theatrical and terrifyingly banal. Around him, the family members oscillate between submission and quiet desperation, their politeness becoming a form of survival. The production design — wood-paneled interiors, frozen television frames, and outdated ornaments — further enhances the uncanny timelessness of this world, as if it were trapped in a loop that refuses to end.
Beyond its immediate tension, The Uncle works as a metaphor for a society haunted by the habits of dictatorship: rituals of obedience, fear of disruption, and the inability to escape inherited roles. Even the humor — dry, awkward, and cruel — feels like a coping mechanism for those trapped in systems they no longer question.
Premiering at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, where it gained critical attention for its originality and sharp social commentary, The Uncle has since become one of the most striking examples of contemporary Croatian cinema’s ability to blend psychological depth with political allegory.
It is a film that dares to ask: when the performance of normality becomes total, what remains of freedom?
