BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY by Croatian writer/director Ivona Juka presents the story of four filmmakers whose artistic, human, and sexual freedom hangs by a thread under Josip Broz Tito’s dictatorship. Shot in black and white, with incredible stylistic nuance and narrative depth, Juka’s LGBTQ drama is a monumental film of striking cultural importance.

Set in Yugoslavia in 1957, the four protagonists are making a film that revives their past as partisans fighting for Yugoslavia’s liberation from the Nazis. Liberation and freedom, however, are far from the air the characters breathe under Tito’s regime. Their film, in fact, appearing to challenge the Republic’s socialist ethics, falls under the scrutiny of the Censorship Agent Emir Servar (Emir Hadzihafizbegovic). With firm instructions to sabotage the film, Emir’s arrival on set drastically alters the working dynamics and the course of the filmmakers’ lives. Lovro, Nenad, Stevan, and Ivan – portrayed by Dado Cosic, Djordje Galic, Slaven Doslo, and Elmir Krivalic, respectively – find themselves creatively castrated and under government surveillance due to their sexual orientation. As these power dynamics unfold, BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY becomes a journey where violence, freedom, and love are constantly intertwined and visually juxtaposed.

“As [the] power dynamics unfold, BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY becomes a journey where violence, freedom, and love are constantly intertwined and visually juxtaposed.”

A series of tight shots frames Nenad being tortured, his naked body shaking from the whippings and the pain on his face. Not long after this, a contrasting scene follows, in which he and Lovro embrace. Close-ups paint a moving picture of them dancing, interlacing hands, kissing, and caressing each other. Nenad is not letting the violence ruin his love and relationship with Lovro. As close-ups equally capture moments of romance and physical abuse, Juka insists that violence and love are inseparable in the film’s political climate, one in which, to be themselves, gay men must first survive.

“Having characters producing a film under the constraints of a socialist regime conveys the rhetoric and essence of BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY. Film is a double-edged sword; it can open up truths or suppress them.”

Having characters producing a film under the constraints of a socialist regime conveys the rhetoric and essence of BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY. Film is a double-edged sword; it can open up truths or suppress them. Agent Emir passively but continuously watching Tito on TV, confirms propaganda’s brainwashing power and effect. Instead, the filmmakers’ response to repression and censorship is to commit even more to their project. With their talent, they manage to play around Emir’s restrictions and bend him to their views. At the projection of their final product, Emir shows enjoyment and contempt. But the government supervisor watching and sitting next to him doesn’t have the same reaction. To Emir’s ear, he whispers “Sabotage, remember.” Emir understands his mission doesn’t end here, and as a diligent government envoy, he plans his next move. The laboratory storing the film rolls is in flames, and with that, the story’s second act begins. The real problem the filmmakers are causing the government is not so much their film as their homosexuality. BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY will show how far the authoritarian regime can go to turn their lives barren.

BEAUTIFUL EVENING, BEAUTIFUL DAY earned Croatia’s 2024 entry for the Oscars, but the government allocated a smaller budget for its awards campaign. The reason seems to be the very heart of the film: unfiltered homosexual love. Nonetheless, Ivona Juka’s work is here and reminds us of the power of cinema: to remember, to challenge history, to praise the importance of art, and – most importantly – freedom.