THE STORY – In the remote highlands of Montenegro, a shepherd mother and daughter proudly defend their ancestral mountain from the threat of becoming a NATO military training ground, stirring memories of the violence that shattered their family.
THE CAST – Mileva Gara Jovanović & Nada Stanišić
THE TEAM – Biljana Tutorov & Petar Glomazić (Writers/Directors)
THE RUNNING TIME – 105 Minutes
Anyone who’s watched the news for the past few years has become accustomed to seeing concerned citizens taking to the streets to make their voices heard against oppression and injustice. In these uncertain times, folks have stepped up to fight back against policies they believe are wrong, whether in large cities, small towns, or even rural areas. But who could have imagined that one of the most inspiring of protests could take place on a sparsely populated mountain, or that a government could be brought to its knees by the voice of a determined shepherd?
That remarkable struggle is captured in the documentary “To Hold a Mountain,” set largely on the desolate Sinjajevina plateau in rural Montenegro. There, a small collection of sheep farmers, mostly women, herd their flock and provide their community with much-needed meat and cheese. Central to this area is Mileva “Gara” Jovanović, a veteran shepherd who engenders enormous respect in this tight-knit community.
Judging by the film’s first half hour, I wouldn’t blame you if you thought “To Hold a Mountain” was a film about farming, because directors Biljana Tutorov and Petar Glomazić take their time to focus on Gara’s everyday life—tending the flock, milking the sheep, making the cheese, and stuffing them into bags for sale in town. But for Gara, the unquestionable highlight of her week is the days when her 13-year-old daughter Nada returns to the mountain after her time in school.
The interactions between mother and daughter provide a window to the heart and soul of “To Hold a Mountain,” as Gara demonstrates to her daughter in fine detail the right way to do all the chores on the farm, so that the homestead can carry on after Gara is gone. But it’s the scenes of her nurturing her daughter—when she cuddles up to Nada to ask about her hopes and dreams—that you can see just how much these two people love each other, which gives us investment in what lies ahead for them.
Word of the mountain revolt and of Gara’s leadership reaches the press, and she is asked to come on local TV for a debate against a military representative. Though clearly out of her element—not only must she go into town, but she has to dress up to do so—a nervous Gara enters the studio. But when the Army officer starts to mansplain to Gara just how important this shooting gallery would be, she is triggered and proceeds to read him to filth, knocking him back on his heels and grasping for an effective retort.
What holds the protest storyline back from being as effective as it might be, however, are gaps in the storytelling. We get scenes of the rally on the mountain, the TV debate, and the government’s eventual capitulation, but little additional sequences. How did the word get out to the press? How critical was the TV debate in causing the powers that be to back down? By this time, we have become so invested in Gara’s quest that we want to get the full story, so that her success can feel fully earned.
Even so, there’s still enough footage to effectively connect the threat being perpetrated against the women’s haven by men with guns with the violence happening within Gara’s own family, with men using physical brutality within the confines of a marriage. The mountain is not just a place to be protected so that women can live and work there safely. For Gara, there’s also an emotional mountain of generational trauma that she is determined to end, and her final triumph over that may be her most meaningful victory of all.
