A grizzled man (Aleksa Ristovic) wanders around the sun-kissed hills of his local area, searching for answers to his sorrow amidst the many statues and beautiful creatures that surround him. Eventually the path leads him to a major crossroad, encountering a woman (Tiana Formosa) who asks him to make up his mind. Standing at the edge of a cliff, he contemplates a difficult decision. Religious iconography and allegories are at the forefront of Ristovic’s work, who wrote, directed, edited, and shot this meditative piece filled with questions about humanity, self-worth, and faith.
Stations of the Cross represents a soul’s journey, a relentless march towards the unknown through jagged rocks and scorching sunshine in the aftermath of a great tragedy. Clarity and confusion. Control and chaos. These are some of the many ideas that this character must grapple with in the grand scheme of things. The short is brimming with thoughtfully framed images, with compositions that mimic Ingmar Bergman’s most iconic works. Ristovic honors the environment he so passionately showcases, focusing on seemingly insignificant details that gradually gain greater meaning through his lens.
Though light on dialogue, Aleksa’s vision doesn’t need words to convey the message in every shot. While some may find it somewhat vague in terms of context, the visual storytelling effectively fills in the gaps when necessary.
Tying every element together nicely is a sweeping score by Santiago Bianchi, whose work uplifts the world-weary tone of the film. In an epic mashup of modern and classical notes, Bianchi manages to create a soundtrack that defines the constant ebb and flow of Ristovic’s character.
With a clever and outright gorgeous arrangement of unique visuals, Stations of the Cross is a brief but rewarding venture into the depths of despair and the potential route back to absolution.
