A Call Girl (aka The Slovenian Girl)

Newcomer Nina Ivanišin is probably the closest any actress will ever get to embodying an angel from hell, at least without the stagy makeup. She plays an unlikely prostitute determined to conquer the world, one client at a time. Harbouring an internal darkness she can't altogether control, her eyelids heavy with sin, Ivanišin's protagonist looks as though she has been around without ever budging an inch; she is streetwise, yet has little experience outside her immediate environment.

After spending her adolescence in small-town Slovenia, at twenty-three Aleksandra is grateful for the glorious anonymity of Ljubljana, and knows just what to do with it. Styling herself into a mid-level call girl, she sells her soul in exchange for a view from above. Dropping out of society, she barricades herself inside her luxury penthouse and watches the world pass her by. But her isolated existence – English studies during the day, mortgage payments by night – is thrown into chaos when one of her clients, a visiting politician, dies of a heart attack on her watch. All of a sudden, Aleksandra is required to feel things – fear, guilt, loneliness – while the police are on the lookout for Slovenka, her working-girl alias.

Festival veteran Damjan Kozole uses a personal tale to explore larger ideological issues in a striking allegory. Moving from adolescence into adulthood is as hard for Slovenka as it is for Slovenia. What is most amazing about the director's approach is his ability to allow both his country and his leading lady to maintain their dignity throughout. Aleksandra's internal independence remains intact even when she caves in, as Kozole steadfastly refuses to force her into high drama. Instead of capitalizing on Ivanišin's obvious flair for tragedy, he simply steps aside while she takes a breather, ready to follow her in whatever she decides to do next – even if it leads to a happy ending. Now that's what I call a sacrifice!

Dimitri Eipides