Marta Meszaros - Little Vilma: The last Diary
Her story: a history

By Andrew Princz
Reporting from Bishkek for ontheglobe.com

“A person cannot be freed of their roots,” said Marta Meszaros during the final days of shooting of her upcoming feature film Little Vilma: The last diary. Largely set in Kyrgyzstan, on the very site where the filmaker spent her early childhood, it was here where Meszaros was orphaned when her parents fell victim of the Stalinist purges of the 1930's. Like the earlier films in her “diary” series, this autobiographical film will reveal the story, largely unknown in the west, of a whole generation of survivors of the Soviet Gulag.

A German, Hungarian, Polish and Kyrgyz co-production, this film will be the last of the internationally acclaimed series which has included Diary of my children, Diary for my lovers and Diary to my Father, Mother.

A day of filming in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, was more reminiscent of a family gathering than the shooting of a film. Nyika Jancsó, the son of the director, sitting at the camera, perched on a boom dating from the Soviet era. The director’s father is played by her actor husband’s son, Lukács Nowicki; while the main character portraying Little Vilma, or Mészáros in her youth, is played by her twelve-year-old grandaughter Cleo Ladányi. On one hot august afternoon after a long day of filming, Andrew Princz spoke with the director in Bishkek.

What memories are you trying to conjur in this film?

This is a difficult question. The film is more of about memories. Every person has memories, and great artists often write about them in their novels. Fellini and Bergman often made films about their memories, and many refer to their childhood. I myself did not set out with the premise that I had an extraordinary childhood. My starting point was that my parents, along with many others at that time who came to Kyrgyzstan in the thirties, became the victims of Stalinism. These people were killed, and then simply forgotten. I have great respect for those who make films about the Holocaust, because there is a great need for them. At the same time, there is little talk about the Gulag and there is only little mention paid the twenty million people who were murdered during the Stalinist regime. There are several reasons for this silence. Partly, nobody wants to be in conflict with the Russians. Fascism has been dealt with and was judged evil. Stalinism, on the other hand, is considered a private matter for the victims and their survivors. Yet it is not so simple. Foreigners, many of whom were leftist in orientation, were also the victims of the Stalinist regime. Europe was a very difficult place to live in the nineteen-thirties. There was the rise of fascism, then Hitler’s victory in Germany. In the Soviet Union, these things were unknown. In America during the nineteen sixties some young people started to rebel, and then joined the left. They went to the Soviet Union, and many were then destroyed by the system. When I started to film the trilogy, I felt that these people cannot not be forgotten. However, some ten years ago, I could not have even dreamed of making this film in the Soviet Union, in Russia nor or in Kyrgyzstan.

So, was it only now that you could return to put these events to film?

Yes. I decided that I will make a film here in Kyrgyzstan, where these events actually took place, where I lived my childhood.

How do you evaluate these memories today?

I have mixed feelings about them. On the one hand, it is about a terrible tragedy. To lose your parents and be left alone in the end of the world in a Central Asian country… But a child is still a child, and I have plenty of good memories too. Had there not been many good and even interesting people around these children, many would never have survived. So, my basic memories are tragic, but like most childhood memories I also have a lot of really poetic memories. Really, though, this is still a film. It is about me, and about us… yet in the end, it has to fall short of both. In a film one writes a story, and it has to be the story of many people.

What is the synopsis of the film?

A woman who is my age goes to Kyrgyzstan and obtains the papers relating to the death of her father. The documents reveal that her father was executed. She just learns this now, and this, in fact, this is really what happened to me. I only learned the truth of my father’s execution in 1999.

What did you know about his fate earlier?

That he died. He was arrested, deported, but of his execution and when it happened… they never talked about that. The system never revealed the real documents. When Askar Akayev became the president of Kyrgyzstan, I don't know what he is like as a President, but in this way he is a decent man; he considered it his duty to release the original documents. So, this is the gist of the film, a woman comes here and confronts herself and her childhood.

When did you first return to Kyrgyzstan?

In 1990, but as I said, at that time it would have been impossible to make a film like this.

You seem to have brought your whole family here. Why is it so important to have your family be part and parcel of the film?

It was a given. I have already made films with my son Nyika, the cameraman. It was only natural that I want to work on this with him. My other son, Zoltán, the father of Cleo, is also part of the crew. I thought that my granddaughter Cleo would be able to play my childhood-self. Luckily, she is even better than I imagined her in this role. She is very talented. She was a bit scared at first, but then she got very good at it. Cleo knows that she plays me as a child, but in the end; it is not absolutely necessary that it should be me.

Why do you think that in Russia or the former Soviet states, or elsewhere for that matter, they make so few films dealing with the Stalinist purges of the nineteen thirties?

I think that it is less in the common consciousness that in the thirties, Europeans came here, worked here. They had no plans to remain here forever, and in the end, they were killed. Recently, there has been literature written on this subject, and they are starting to publish more documents. The West, however, is slow to talk about it. The European left, particularly the French and the Italian communists and socialists, are not keen to talk about it because in some way they were implicated in this story. When those who survived returned to France, Germany or Italy- they did not reveal the truth. They did not want to say that, yes, our friends were killed but we survived. Why and how did we survive? It was a delicate question. At any rate, they wanted to maintain their faith and their idealism. Yes, maybe Stalin was a dictator, they thought, but still, the idea of socialism remains both good and decent. They defended this view for a long time to come.

Don’t you think that the Kyrgyz are reluctant to confront the past since there are plenty of problems that they are dealing with in the present, and also in their recent history?

Yes, that might be one of the reasons… but look, the Americans know very little about Europe, and know even less about Russia. They are the leading power both economically and politically, and in most fields. People start to think like the Americans. They think that the past was very sad, but we have overcome this, and it is not worth dealing with. Yet in America, they make films of the not-so-glorious past. In fact, America was born through bloodshed: the Indians, the civil-war, prohibition, unemployment…

But it seems that here, people are not even familiar with their own history?

Of course. During the filming, many locals looked at me with a great deal of respect for daring to reveal the truth, and not letting the past fall into oblivion. According to many Kyrgyz, this is a good cause, all while they have a lot of hardship to deal with at the moment, economically and other. We can’t forget that Central Asia lived in a state of terror for seventy years. Sheer terror.

How do you view their predicament?

Generally, I think that the people of Asia have a great future. There is an elementary force in the Kyrgyz, Tadjik, Kazak, Mongolian and Chinese people. I am optimistic, but it is still very difficult. Partly, because there are still many communists or former communists who are still in power. Until this generation dies out, there will be no real democracy in Kyrgyzstan. People’s way of thinking is not democratic here.

In Hungary, society has given the great opportunities to and invested in their youth. This does not seem to be the case in this country?

People are still afraid here. This is the problem of the past seventy years: the system was based upon intimidation. People were afraid to talk with each other, were afraid of history, they were scared to tell the truth. It is difficult to be freed of this attitude. Still today I notice that whenever they talk, people look left and right for fear of being reported to the authorities. In Hungary and in Poland- I live in two countries- the situation is somewhat different. In Poland, it seems better than in Hungary. In Hungary the thirty years of the Kádár regime left deep scars. Maybe economically it was more favorable, we lived better, but the period was nevertheless disabling spiritually. I think that continuous rebellion in Poland carried more energy and truth within itself. In Central Asia it is also difficult to affect change because people do not know what it means to work. During socialism, they earned little, they did not have to have a career outside of the communist party. At that time, there was only ideology. Yet this is a beautiful, interesting country. They are strange these people, the Kyrgyz, there is something wild about them.

What do you mean by 'wild'?

For me there is something mystical about the Kyrgyz. You never can tell how they feel, whether they start to be aware of their freedom. You never know what they are going to do with this freedom. This is still unpredictable.

Yesterday you were filming in downtown Bishkek, next to a monumental statue of Lenin. A decade ago there were still many such monuments both in Hungary and Poland, most of which have long since disappeared. Here they still stand erect. What does this symbolize? Is this a country still living in another era?

I think that Lenin and Stalin are the symbols of the Soviet socialism. History judged Stalin, but Lenin is still thought of as an ideologue and not an executioner, although I do not agree with this. The Kyrgyz people insist that the Lenin statue is there because they have not have the money to demolish it. In order to destroy it, they say, they would have to totally rebuild the square along with the whole neighborhood. Probably there is some truth to this. The statue will disappear one day, but a lot of people here are still attached to the past.

You get the feeling in Bishkek that you were visiting a place where time stood still. What do you know of the changes in the last decade?

Many things changed here as well. Ten years ago, when I last visited here, it would have been unimaginable to sit here with you and talk. People were different, waiters were different, the shop windows, the service… now people come and go on the streets, they laugh, they yell. It was not like this in those days.

This is where your parents were killed. You spent many difficult years in this country. What brought you back?

Look, one cannot be freed of one’s roots… but I really wanted to shoot this film. It was important for me to oblige the Kyrgyz State to admit that my father was innocently killed. This did happen. My father was morally and materially rehabilitated. This is the reason that they allowed me to do thisfilm.

The title of this film is “The Last Diary”. Why?

Well, I hope that I will still make films, but this particular story ends here. Nevertheless, I would be glad to come back here. I would love to make a road-movie in Kyrgyzstan. I think that with a simple story, traveling through this landscape… it could end up being a fascinating film. Unfortunately it is hard to raise money for films in Europe. European film-making is not in very good shape. There is little money available, and generally the American film industry swallowed European cinema.

Your directorial style is very unique, it's almost as if you let the film direct itself.

That’s the only way that I can make films. I think that there are only fifteen to twenty great directors, the others are more or less talented. I don’t like directors who imagine that they are creating great masterpieces, I just don’t believe in that attitude. They run about in a crazy furor, back and forth as if they were on some sort of a mission. I have seen directors like that, and then you see the film and it is really about nothing. I believe that in order to make a good film, you need a good story, to tell the truth, to cast it properly, and be professional and realistic about the film-making process. There are directors who become hysterical while filming, and then they give birth to some good idea. I am not one of those, but I do take my work seriously. My husband, Jan Nowicki, always says that Marta makes a film between two meals. I love to make films, and I know that since this is my twentieth film, I am a really professional filmmaker.

* Andrew Princz, October 1999 (Copyright)
* Photo credits, the author and courtesy photos (Copyright)