Australian-Macedonian writer/director Goran Stolevski’s third film is concerned with the theme of family, just not in the traditional way. Almost playing as a companion piece to Noora Niasari’s excellent Shayda from 2023, which also features a found family, Stolevski’s film engages in these themes with a queer eye, as opposed to a distinctly feminist one. Following his second film, the Australian queer drama Of An Age, Stolevski (who also edits the film) tells a story of Dita, a lesbian healthcare worker who opens the doors of her home to a circus of misfits and outcasts who all have their own unique and memorable personalities and quirks.
In many ways, it’s the kind of film that pops up at film festivals every year - A narrative film that feels like a glorified soap opera. Characters and narrative strands tangle and weave through each other with little rhyme or reason. Cinematically, the team are not treading any new ground and generally follow the same filmmaking tics that audiences have seen time and time again since the advent of digital cameras. Director of Photography Naum Doksevski shoots mostly handheld compositions with a shallow focus that intends to give the film a realistic and intimate atmosphere. There’s probably twelve movies with this same visual style at every film festival.
Music choices throughout frequently feel out of place or irrelevant. Stolevski often utilises classical music, and tracks ripped out of opera or famous classical tracks that have been embedded into pop-culture. Very little thought has been put into these needle-drops, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they are temp tracks that were later put in when money started to run out. Other music in the film is often unobtrusive and incidental, with some infrequently used pop tracks feeling authentic to the characters.
There’s undercooked political commentary of North Macedonia’s ascension to the European Union and response to the Covid-19 that feel like they could be majorly elaborated on. In fact, the film feels like it’s in a rush to move onto new subjects before they can really conclude the last thing. We’re shuffling through themes of toxic masculinity, age gaps in gay relationships, sex trafficking, domestic abuse, racism against Roma people, cancer, drug abuse, etc. Whatever the case may be, Stolevski clearly has a lot on his mind.
Ultimately, there’s not all too much to say about Housekeeping for Beginners without doing a deep dive into character analysis, however, I want to detail one particular moment that stood out to me. Mia, a sassy kindergartener played by Dzada Selim, is painting the nails of Ali, a young gay man. As Mia paints, she gets more into it and brushes the nail polish right up to Ali’s knuckles. Ali doesn’t seem to mind. Mia’s childlike attitude and carefree nature are contrasted directly with Ali’s traumatic, devastating narrative that we’ve seen played out. This moment between the two transcends towards something far more truthful, original, and poetic.
For all my negativity towards the cliche and formulaic story and structure, there are lovely little moments throughout the film that highlights strong performances from the cast.
3 stars out of 5
