A powerful period drama set amongst the minority Albanian population of the wild Montenegro mountains during World War II, “Tower of Strength” considers the values of morality, honor and virtue and the difficulty of staying humane during chaotic, violent times. Inspired by themes in the work of acclaimed Montenegrin author Zuvdija Hodžić, director Nikola Vukčević’s long-in-the-making production perfectly captures the sense of a world gone awry and standards swept away, leaving his chief protagonist with an impossible existential dilemma.
Stunning cinematography, a haunting score and pacey editing keep viewer interest high throughout and help to overcome the impression created by the broad, soap opera-like playing from a couple of the villainous supporting characters. “Tower of Strength” has been circulating on the international festival circuit since late 2024 and most recently nabbed the best international feature title at the San Diego Film Fest. Like many of this year’s international feature submissions, its central message is something that truly resonates with our contemporary time, making it a plausible pickup for a boutique streamer.
A brief prologue, unfolding in the 1930s, establishes the complex rules of honor governing relations between Albanian clans as the Gjonaj household offers a newborn baby boy to the Doka family to end a blood feud. Instead of taking the infant’s life, WWI hero Nuredin Doka (Edon Rizvanolli) choses to raise him as his own (and only) son.
Skipping ahead a decade, that child is now Mehmet (Elez Adzović), an impulsive youth, so over-eager to absorb the lessons of his widely respected father that he often acts without thinking. Indeed, it’s his impetuousness that sets in motion the central predicament: When Mehmet sees a boy about his age (Vuk Bulajić) fleeing a bloodthirsty paramilitary gang, he beckons him inside the Doka compound.
The boy in question is a Christian whose parents have been brutally murdered by the soldiers, part of the infamous Skanderbeg unit of the Waffen SS. These ill-disciplined Albanian men surround the Doka home, demanding the child’s life too. But Nuredin’s honor and empathy prevent him from turning the frightened child over to the gang, bound as he is by ancient traditions of hospitality, even though he understands that this decision is likely to put his family at risk. His elderly father (Selman Jusufi) supports him, noting, “Allah sent this child to test us. In times of war, it is easy to become less than an honorable man.”
Seeing that there is no way to appease the soldiers, who are egged on by the vile rapist Abid (Aleksandar Radulović) despite the attempts of Mark Gjonaj (Alban Ukaj) to de-escalate the situation, Nuredin plays for time, demanding to see their commander (Branimir Popović). After the commander confirms Nuredin’s worst fears, he calls on a local judge (Nikola Ristanovski) for advice, but the wise man’s careful reasoning of the options leaves him with little hope.
The taut, carefully detailed screenplay by Ana Vujadinović and Melina Pota Koljević, with input from helmer Vukčević, goes for an ending that cleverly sums up all the previous elements. Fate, virtue, sacrifice and self-knowledge come together, along with a visual rhyme, to preserve the honorable Doka name.
Given that this story of honor takes place in a patriarchal society with the female characters largely relegated to the sidelines, the screenwriters (who are both women) give Nuredin’s wife (Xhejlane Terbunja) a few lines telling lines. She notes how difficult it is to be his spouse, especially when a woman’s instinct is to preserve her children at all costs.
Marking the third directorial outing of multi-hyphenate Vukčević (“The Children Of Marx and Engels Street”), “Tower of Strength” is particularly notable for its high production values. The agile cinematography of Djordje Stojiljković is equally comfortable in capturing the rugged landscapes and in closeups of the characters’ faces. The striking period costumes (which may seem a bit too clean for the hunting scene) are clearly accurate copies of ones that can be seen in old photographs during the closing credits. Also deserving of kudos is the evocative score by Dušan Maksimovski.