Somewhere in contemporary Belgrade resides one of the few living testimonies of the atrocities which shook the 20th century to its core. One of the first Serbian women to become an anti-fascist partisan, Sonia emerges in the movie as a candid figure and memory lane carries her back in time to a carefree bourgeois childhood, followed by the revolutionary zest of the teenage years, the anti-German resistance, the tortures, and Auschwitz in her youth. Her story transcends the perimeter of her tidy apartment, as well as that of textbook history, as it leads us straight into the midst of the landscapes that witnessed the great murder which was the war. The images fuse together, reminding us that, in its turn, the memory of torture and suffering fuses into the grand show of history, engraved in the very fabric of time. And the lesson on landscape in Marta Popivoda’s film seems to reveal more than mere banalities about composition and chromatics: poppies may fade in the blazing sun, but the earth in the concentration camps will never be washed off of blood. (Andreea Chiper)