Sarajevo was the perfect place to finally sit down with Sergei Loznitsa to discuss his vision of cinema and his latest work, Two Prosecutors.
For many years, Sergei Loznitsa has been a familiar presence at the world’s leading film festivals — from Cannes to Venice. Until now, our encounters were always brief. A deeper exchange finally took place at the 31st Sarajevo Film Festival, where Sergei Loznitsa served as President of the Competition Programme – Feature Film jury. His most recent work, Two Prosecutors (2025), premiered earlier this year in Cannes and has since drawn strong reactions for its striking vision and emotional force.
This year’s jury included Serbian actor Dragan Mićanović, Romanian director and actor Emanuel Pârvu, Bosnian-Dutch filmmaker Ena Sendijarević, and festival director Tricia Tuttle, known for her leadership at the Berlinale. Together, they formed a diverse and dynamic group under Loznitsa’s direction.
Sergei Loznitsa visited the festival on numerous occasions and shares a personal connection with the city and its history. In 2022, the festival honored him with the Honorary Heart of Sarajevo and presented a retrospective of his work.
Polina Grechanikova: You are presiding over the jury of the 31st Sarajevo Film Festival. What does this role mean to you personally?
Sergei Loznitsa: I was delighted to accept the invitation. This is not my first time in Sarajevo — I have been here before, and it was a deeply moving experience. The history of this city resonates with me. What happened here thirty years ago, the suffering and the endurance of its people, feels close to what we are living through now in Ukraine.
There is wisdom in the suffering that Sarajevo has already endured, and being here feels almost like entering a vision of the future that may await us. The processes of collapse — of empires, of states — are painful, whether in the former Soviet Union or in the former Yugoslavia. Here, people already carry the knowledge of that trauma. To speak with them is to encounter a certain kind of foresight, a wisdom that comes only from living through tragedy.
So when I walk the streets of this city, I feel its past and also a mirror of what lies ahead.
Polina Grechanikova: How do you approach the responsibility of being jury president, especially when opinions on cinema can differ so greatly?
Sergei Loznitsa: Of course, it’s always difficult to judge the work of one’s colleagues. Cinema is not a sport, and there are no universal criteria. Each of us on the jury brings our own perspective, our own values. For me, the task is to defend my vision of cinema — what it can be, what it should strive for.
But there is also joy in this process. I’ve already met my fellow jurors, and we have a wonderful group. We will debate, we will disagree, but ultimately we will find common ground. And in the end, this is also a kind of game — it should not be approached with excessive solemnity. At the same time, I see it as an opportunity to articulate what I believe cinema should do.
Polina Grechanikova: Listening to you speak about the festival and your responsibility as jury president naturally leads to a broader question about your own artistic practice. You often stress the importance of form in cinema. How do you find the balance between form and theme?
Sergei Loznitsa: I would call myself a formalist. For me, form is both the means and the embodiment of an idea. But everything begins with the idea — it is the foundation. The theme must be visible, even if it is not the plot itself. Once the idea is clear, form follows naturally.
For example, in The Prosecutors, the story takes place in a prison. But what is it really about? It is about the illusions that sustain oppressive systems — the belief that justice can be found somewhere above us, in some ultimate authority. Both the young prosecutor and the old prisoner he confronts share this illusion, and it leads them to tragedy.
Form reflects this theme. Prison is immobility — time stands still there. So the camera remains static. The space is defined by squares, by walls. Colors are drained from the film: no blue sky, no green trees, no bright yellows. Only grays, browns, blacks, and the occasional blood red. Every choice arises from the central idea.
Polina Grechanikova: Watching Two Prosecutors, I had the sense that the prison was more than a backdrop — it seemed to define the entire mood of the film. How do you work with space as an element of meaning in your cinema?
Sergei Loznitsa: A prison is immobility. It is a place where time stops. That is why in this film the camera is static. The characters cannot escape, and neither can the audience. The square format reflects that enclosure. The absence of color reflects the absence of life. This is not decoration; it is not aesthetics for their own sake. It is the direct consequence of the idea. Every form in cinema must be born from the idea, otherwise it is empty.
We are delighted to be attending the 31st Sarajevo Film Festival in person, taking place August 15–22, 2025.
