There is something oddly fascinating about a dazed protagonist stumbling around a small town/city that is either unfamiliar from the get-go or has become unfamiliar over the years, trying to piece together a mystery that will eventually solve or aggravate their inner conflict. Some of the favourites are Blade Runner 2049, Hot Fuzz, Broadchurch, Sharp Objects, Homecoming, The Hunt, Fargo, Wind River, and Mare of Easttown. And apart from the two British outings, these are evidently all North American entries. Which makes one wonder whether this is a US-centric phenomenon only. To be honest, no, because we have the Serbian show Awake (or Kljun) in our presence, which unlike its peers has a supernatural edge.
Directed by Jelena Gavrilović and Uroš Tomić, and written by Ljubica Lukovic and Matija Dragojević, the show opens with a Sicario-esque sequence where the central character Sonja Kljun (Ivana Vukovic) is seen infiltrating some kind of a criminal hideout along with the SWAT team. But instead of ending with a bust, the scene is abruptly halted by a gunshot through a green door to Sonja’s head and a cut-to her daughter Olja Kljun (Drena Mrsic) waking up, thereby insinuating that it was all a dream. Or was it? Because after that, Olja warns Sonja to stay away from any green doors and Sonja’s superior tells her to drop the case she’s working on, primarily because of an incident of extrajudicial punishment she was involved in. And one of the members who replaces Sonja on the mission she was meant to go on, the one Olja was dreaming about too, gets shot through a green door. Coincidence? Absolutely not!
However, before we can ponder on that a little further, the narrative and Sonja are shifted to the sleepy town of Subotica, also considered the Serbian capital of suicides, to investigate the death of the alleged son of a local mob boss. And if the misogyny in Sonja’s hometown seemed too much to handle, in Subotica it’s on a whole other level. In here, there are patriarchal figures, of course. But in addition to that there are people who are oblivious to their internalised misogyny, telling Sonja how to think, how to act, how much to work, and picking on the metaphorical wound caused by her problematic relationship with her celebrity husband.
Which is weird, right? Because a small town has the advantage of providing tailor-made and probably affordable therapy for each person due to its low population, something that a city cannot because of its wider demographic. Yet it refuses to do so. Instead, it chooses to double down on the regression, ghettoism, and the desensitization of some of the most heinous acts imaginable. Why? It’s difficult to explain. Maybe it’s something in the air. Maybe it’s basic human nature watered down because of the lack of scrutiny and attention. Whatever it is, if you have lived in a small town, you will relate to it and hugely appreciate the accuracy with which this atmosphere of lethargy has been captured in Awake.
Now, fret not. It’s not all gloom and doom and is aptly balanced out by the sheer screen presence of Miklos ‘Mica’ Tot (Stefan Vukic), the junior inspector assigned to assist Sonja in her investigation. Mica is a huge fan of David Fincher’s Se7en, so much so that he models himself after David Mills’ (Brad Pitt) image, down to the goatee and gun-holster. In fact, due to Sonja’s job experience, he likely starts to see her as the Serbian version of Detective Lieutenant William R. Somerset (Morgan Freeman). There are scenes explicitly designed to make viewers root for them as well. But before Mica or the audience can draw more parallels, Lukovic and Dragojević bring us close to reality by exposing the flaw in this over-romanticised buddy cop trope via Sonja’s inability to acclimatize to Subotica’s customs due to her superiority complex and Mica’s inability to shepherd Sonja through this transition period due to his inferiority complex.
So, will Sonja and Mica resolve their differences and come together to solve the case at hand or let each other be consumed by their insecurities, thereby botching the only thing that can make their futures better? Well, that’s the tense question which is dangled over the duo like the Sword of Damocles and only escalated by Sonja and Olja’s premonitions, thereby making for an engaging viewing experience. Awake is certainly a product of its time though, featuring echoes of detective thrillers that are trending right now, not just in terms of storytelling but, save for the use of aspect ratio to differentiate between dreams and reality, also via how it looks and feels. It is bolstered by the performances, with Vukic clearly being a highlight. But beyond that, one can only hope now that it will manage to stand out in a sub-genre replete with similar stories.
