Debating Dubrovnik and Making TV

Our TV show on “Dubrovnik and Balkan Side-Trips,” which debuts this month on public television, is one of my favorites of this new series. The editor’s cut came in at more than two minutes too long. Here’s an e-mail exchange I had with our team on the painful chore of cutting it to size. It’s between me, Steve Cammarano (our television editor), and Cameron Hewitt (co-author to my guidebook on this region and this episode’s co-writer). The reference to “kill your babies” is the slang editors use when writers can’t part with something adorable, even though it doesn’t fit the structure of an article, book, or script. It’s graphic, but to writers, it almost seems appropriate. This exchange, while a bit wonkish perhaps, gives a peek at the debates that go on behind the scene as we make these shows ‘ and also illustrates how fortunate I am to work with such talented people.

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To: Rick and Cameron

From: Steve

The “Dubrovnik and Balkans Side-Trips” show is ready for you to view. It is running 2:30 long, and nothing seems obviously cuttable. So, since it’s a “kill your babies” decision, Simon [the producer] and I thought we’d let you decide which of the little babies to slaughter. (We’ll nickname you Herod afterwards!) Let me know what you think. After you get a chance to look at it, I’ll give Cameron a file or DVD so we can get his comments too and consolidate all cuts/changes.

Thanks, Steve

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To: Steve

From: Rick

Here’s the Dead Baby Cemetery. Cut these sequences to save the necessary time:

[8 OC] Locals consider themselves a unique mix of Slavic and Roman culture. When Dubrovnik was just a small town in the seventh century, this main drag was a water way. Romans fleeing from the invading Slavs lived on this side, which was a fortified island. And eventually, the Slavs settled on the mainland. In the 11th century, the canal was filled in, the towns merged, and Dubrovnik’s culture blossomed.

[11] The Sponza Palace is the finest surviving example of Dubrovnik’s Golden Age in the 15th and 16th centuries, combining Renaissance and Venetian Gothic styles. Stepping into its stately courtyard takes you back to that illustrious age.

[13] In the Middle Ages, the city’s monasteries flourished. Today tourists escaping the heat explore these peaceful, sun-dappled cloisters and their modest museums.

[14] Religious art and fine reliquaries stand as evidence of the town’s importance in its heyday. Paintings from the “Dubrovnik School” show the Republic’s circa-1500 answer to the art boom in Florence and Venice. This canvas shows old-time Dubrovnik ‘ looking much like it does today.

[18] We’re staying at a small guesthouse at the top of town. Throughout Croatia, sobe ‘ that’s rooms for rent in private homes ‘ are a much better value than big hotels. Ours is run by Pero.

[19 Pero sound bites: walnut grappa, the war, six month siege, no food, no electricity, house bombed, 200 years in family, couldn’t just walk away, rebuilt, made guesthouse, now the tourists are back.]

This was really tough but I feel Dubrovnik is a well-worn topic and what we did in Montenegro and Bosnia was really ground-breaking. I really like Cameron’s presence in the show and wouldn’t cut a word of that. By cutting this, by my count, we save 2:25.

Other comments (not related to our time concerns): Could we include one more painting of a ship in a storm to make that bit more vivid? When the script says “gave the place its name ‘ Montenegro” I envision the mountain-ringed basin looking inland with the craggy rocks and the inhospitable expanse. Do we have something like that to consider? If you think the woman is inaudible for #69 I could read the VO for the park-turned-cemetery. It might save time too. I miss the map of the Serb Republic within Bosnia-Herz, and I miss the cruise ship reality bit. But there just isn’t time. Again, nice work.

Thanks, Rick

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To: Rick and Steve

From: Cameron

Thanks for sending this list, Rick. I discussed with Steve and took a careful look at the show/script. Here’s my take:

First, this is yet another fantastic show. Gorgeously shot by Karel and artfully edited by Steve. I wasn’t sure how we’d cram so much interesting content into one package and still let it breathe, but Steve pulled it off. The sequence near the end, juxtaposing the church and the mosque crowd over pensive music, is about the most powerful thing I’ve seen regarding this conflict. The show succeeds in grappling with the realities of war head-on, without glossing over painful truths, while still being entertaining, easy to comprehend, and a lively travelogue…all this and even-handed, too. Great work, everyone!

I agree with most of Rick’s suggested cuts. The Sponza Palace can definitely go; the monasteries are also optional, though I find them more interesting/important/pretty than the palace. If we cut both, however, the sightseeing content in Dubrovnik gets very thin; it’d be nice to save one or the other.

Rick’s on-camera about the filled-in canal is also somewhat deletable, though I like it. I’d try to keep it unless it’s essential to cut.

On the whole, when you add up all of your cuts, it seems like Dubrovnik is really being gutted. In your version, Dubrovnik ‘ which, after all, is the title and main destination of the show ‘ really gets short shrift. You mention that Dubrovnik is well-worn. Well, maybe for those of us who’ve traveled a lot. But in terms of the TV audience, this is your one and only shot at it, and it’d be a shame to do it halfway. Paris and London are well-worn, but they still deserve to be covered in a TV show as if for the first time.

So I’d lobby to keep Pero. I think that sequence is very effective. Pero comes off as likeable and articulate. And it’s very powerful to see the two of you standing in a formerly destroyed house holding a mortar.

More importantly, big picture: If we cut Pero, we throw off the delicate balance that this show has achieved. When you think about the local people you “interview,” we’ve currently got a Croat, a Montenegrin, a Serb, and a Muslim. I think it’s critical to afford each group a voice. Including Pero offers a powerful symmetry to this show: We see the gorgeous town of Dubrovnik, then hear about the war from someone who lived through it; later, we see the pretty town of Mostar, then hear about the war from someone who lived through it. If we leave out Pero, the only real talk of Croats is as the aggressors in Mostar. I think it’s essential to also show a Croat (Pero) as a resilient victim. Pero also personalizes the war in Dubrovnik in a pretty dramatic way.

So what’s to be done? It’s clear to me that ‘ both in terms of the quality of the sequences, and in terms of the overall balance of the show ‘ the most expendable bit is Cetinje. If you simply cut everything after the explanation of the name “Black Mountain,” it’s a tidy transition out of the country.

I really like Stefan, and I’d be very sorry to see him go. And, Rick, I know you have an affection for Cetinje. But let’s be honest: Cetinje is neither particularly attractive, nor historically interesting. At best, it’s a depressed, once-great town that gets a quirky footnote in history. And the church/monastery Stefan guides you through pales in comparison to the one in Trebinje. It feels like one Orthodox church too many (especially right in a row). I’d rather have an articulate, philosophizing priest explaining a gorgeous Orthodox church than a tour guide explaining a hokey artifact in a blah one. If you’re trying to flesh out a thin show, that’s one thing. But we have the opposite problem. If anything should get short shrift in this overstuffed show, it’s Montenegro ‘ not Dubrovnik.

Getting back to the issue of providing balance: If we take out Stefan, we’ve still got a Croat (Pero), a Serb (Father Drazen), and a Muslim (Alma). That feels right to me, as you promise in the opening OC, “We’ll get to know three major groups of the former Yugoslavia ‘ Croats, Serbs, and Muslims.”

If we cut Cetinje, it should get us closer to the time we need. We could also cut some of the Dubrovnik bits you suggested. I’d also nominate selectively trimming some of the interview sections. For example:

–Father Drazen is great, but one question/answer that could go is the one about “pluralism.” I found his answer too pat (“sure, sure, sure!”) and frankly unconvincing; his response to the next question, about “Balkanization” is similar but far more revealing (“we have to work hard at it”), and does the job better than the pluralism answer.

–The section with my lines conveys a lot of hard-to-digest content and is pretty dense. But we could cherry-pick a few lines in there to cut. For example, the explanation of why these wars happened (age-old hatreds vs. manipulative politicians) is an important point, but difficult to convey succinctly. It could go.

–I can see where it might work to trim down Alma’s talk in the cemetery, if you want, and cover some of that with your voice-over.

Rick, I feel strongly about the Cetinje issue. I really think cutting Cetinje would make this a more powerful show ‘ and a more balanced, nuanced, and thought-provoking one.

I hope this helps. I might give the show another look to see if there are any (minor) factual bits that need to be tweaked.

Thanks for listening, Cameron

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To: Steve and Cameron

From: Rick

Thanks, Cameron. You’d make a good lawyer. OK, I’ll buy keeping Pero. But I’d like to cut all the other proposed bits from Dubrovnik. That means we still have to cut something to make Steve’s time needs. I agree that the kid in the Cetinje church is cuttable, and the bit about pluralism. So, please, cut all but Pero in Dub, cut the church (only) in Cetinje, and cut just the line about pluralism. What does that leave us, Steve, for further cuts needed?

Rick

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To: Rick and Cameron

From: Steve

Rick, I’ll take a look at what that would mean time-wise for your revised, proposed cuts. After taking into consideration both yours and Cameron’s comments, I’d like to make my own case. I agree with Cameron’s proposal to cut Cetinje entirely for the reasons he states, and cutting just the church/relic sequence makes Cetinje even more unnecessary in the show. If we cut all of Cetinje we drop 1:25. In terms of Dubrovnik, I would cut the monasteries and art because I feel they are less than impressive and doing so would connect your previous on-camera to the walls of Dubrovnik better (the OC was about the period when Dubrovnik was growing/becoming prominent, and the walls are the most visible and impressive sign of that). Losing the monasteries and art would cut around another 30 seconds. And I also feel very strongly that we should keep Pero in the show. Finally, I agree with Cameron’s suggested trim of Father Drazen when he speaks of pluralism. Depending on where I cut it, that gets us somewhere between 15 and 25 seconds. That puts us right in the pocket, time-wise. I can probably get it to time after that with my usual final pass of trims and fine cutting. I think this would make the best show and get me where I need to be time-wise. I’ll look into where your proposed cuts would leave us in terms of show length, Rick. Let me know what you guys think.

Thanks, Steve

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To: Steve and Cameron

From: Rick

Hello all,

Cutting Cetinje will come back to haunt you because I think we might actually have to return for an entire show. But, I’m clearly outvoted so I’ll go with that. How about this: Cut Cetinje altogether (1:25), cut monastery and art, cut pluralism. Does that get us to the goal line? I am ambivalent about the palace.

Why don’t Steve and Cameron huddle with this last input from me? The Dubrovnik thing is complex. Proceed from the starting point of what time we need to save without Cetinje and pluralism. Please tell me, without Cetinje and pluralism, how you propose to make it fit with just Dubrovnik cuts after that.

Thanks, Rick

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To: Rick and Cameron

From: Steve

Rick,

I’ve cut Cetinje and pluralism, and it leaves us 49 seconds long. Of your earlier proposed Dubrovnik cuts the OC about Slavs/Romans is 23 seconds, Sponza Palace is 14 seconds, and the monasteries and art are 30 seconds. Keep in mind that I should be able to get another 10-15 seconds of fat out when I take a final pass, so we could get most of the way by cutting one or two of these and find the remaining time in trims. We can easily figure it out after you get home. (I’ll begin working on “The Best of Cetinje” show after Oslo…)

Steve

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To: Rick and Steve

From: Cameron

Hey Rick,

Thanks for being open to our suggestions. It’s going to significantly strengthen an already stellar show! (Hmmm. I can see it now: “The Miserable Mediterranean: Cetinje, Gythio, and Genoa.” I’ll get working on a script…)

Cameron

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To see what ended up on the cutting room floor, watch this clip about Cetinje.

Nomads and Cuff Links

I was on the terrace of a fancy Dubrovnik hotel in jeans and a T-shirt. A big shot was at the next table with his hair just right, a coat and tie, and fancy cuff links. I thought, wouldn’t it make more sense if the poor and powerless were the ones who had to dress up like that?

In Dubrovnik, the cruise ship crowds were so intense that we literally could not do our filming in the middle of the day. The city was inundated…a human traffic jam. I got a bit down. Then, as is so often the case, things cleared out and the town regained its charm. Those who stay after the tenders have stopped ferrying people back and forth enjoy a town the thousands who blitzed it from their ship have no appreciation of. It’s sad to think that the vast majority of Dubrovnik’s visitors see a hellishly crowded city and probably leave with the wrong impression. Even if they think they liked Dubrovnik, they didn’t really get to meet it.

There’s a buzz about how humble little Montenegro is emerging as “the new Mediterranean hotspot.” The tourist board there put my film crew in an “emerging hotspot” designer hotel on the Bay of Kotor. It was so elite and reclusive that I expected to see Idi Amin poolside. (Actually, I think he’s dead…but I thought it would be cool if they had a blow-up version of him just parked next to the pool on a lounge chair with a cocktail.)

The hotel, open just a month, was a comedy of horrible design. We felt like we were the first guests. My bathroom was far bigger than many entire hotel rooms — but the toilet was jammed in the corner. I had to tuck up my knees to fit between it and the sink cabinet. The room was dominated by a big Jacuzzi tub for two. I am certain there wasn’t enough hot water available to fill it. I doubt it will ever be used, except for something to look at as you’re crunched up on the toilet. My bed was vast, but without a side table light or even access to a light switch. A huge rain storm hit with fury enough to keep the automatic glass doors opening and closing on their own. Nothing drained — a torrent ran down the stairs outside the front door, and everything was dripping. With the rain, a horrible smell drove us out of our rooms. Just as we sat down to our breakfast, the storm knocked out the electricity. Looking past the candelabra on our table, the overwhelmed receptionist explained with a shrug, “When it rains, there is no electricity.” The man who runs the place just looked at us and said, “Cows.” (I think he meant “chaos.”)

Looking in the mirror the other day, I noticed how white my teeth looked. It reminded me that when I asked my dentist the best way to get my teeth whitened, he said, “Get a tan.” It’s so great to be getting sunshine and exercise on the road.

We drove by a Gypsy camp switchbacking from the Mediterranean coast up into the interior of Montenegro. Our guide explained the local Gypsies don’t want to go to school and don’t want to work. I commented that they don’t want their children to be taught lifestyles that threaten their nomadic ways. The camp was absolutely filthy. Our guide said, “That’s their aesthetic.” I couldn’t really imagine a society with an aesthetic to be sloppy…as if moms bark at her kids, “You can’t go out to play until you mess up your room.”

All over our world, nomadic cultures like the Roma (or Gypsy) culture are struggling — I think because they’re at odds with societies that require fences, conventional ownership, and non-nomadic ways. I wonder how many nomadic cultures (American Indians, Eskimos, Kurds, Gypsies) will be here in the next generation.

Cresting the mountain into the Montenegrin heartland, we came to a village that looked like it had no economy. Then a man took us into a big, blocky, white building that looked like a giant monopoly house. He opened the door and we stepped inside, under tons of golden ham peacefully aging. It was a smokehouse — jammed with five layers of hanging hamhocks. Our Montenegrin friend stoked up his fire, filled the place with smoke, and we filmed. More industry than you realize hides out in sleepy villages.

Cliché Croatia

I’ve learned a lot from concerned feedback from Croatians and from Cameron Hewitt, the co-author of our Croatia & Slovenia and Eastern Europe guidebooks (and a driving force behind us getting that part of Europe up to speed with our coverage of the West). I’m fascinated by the Cold War and their struggles for freedom, and with the wars of the mid-1990s in the former Yugoslavia, but this is becoming old news. Here is an example of feedback to a recent article I wrote, and the response by Cameron (which I agree with a hundred percent):

Dear Mr. Steves,

It was painful to read your latest article on Dubrovnik and Croatia. I would have thought it was a reprint from 10 years ago. First of all the real story is that Dubrovnik has become a victim of its reputation. It is a laggard in post war tourism restructuring compared to other Croatian destinations. Much as energy wealth has kept Russia from reforming, Dubrovnik’s traditional reputation and hordes of Cruise Ship day trippers have lead to a town that is expensive, and offers second class amenities and value.

The real story of Croatian tourism and its successful rapid growth can be found in other areas, such as the Istrian peninsula, which offers high commercial standards of tourism, or the town of Zadar which is more than twice as old as Dubrovnik, and rapidly transformed itself to offer a far higher level of urban sophistication. National parks like Kornati, Plitvice, Krka, and Pakelnica, each offering unique splendor and are located less than two hours drive from each other. The town of Novalje on the island of Pag has become one of the top draws for the international party crowd with Ibixa-like 24 hour partying in one of the many mega clubs at the Zrce beach. The yacht charter industry is one of the largest and most competitive in the world, offering fantastic value, offering the most fantastic holiday experience. These are the real stories of the Croatian experience.

Milan Šangulin

Rick,

I actually agree with this reader. The point he’s making is that you should be cautious not to fixate on one (ugly) aspect of a destination — such as a war — when there’s so much more to the place. I think a similar case could be made about focusing too much on the communist chapter in former Soviet places, like Prague or Hungary or Poland.

Avoiding talk of old wars and communist times just to appease these critics is unreasonable. However, I would encourage you to think beyond these concepts. For example, I find Mostar at least as engaging for its mosques and Turkish houses and diving-off-the-Old Bridge traditions, as for its war damage and improvised cemeteries.

The more I travel in Croatia and Bosnia, the less I think about the war. The more I travel in Eastern Europe, the less I think about communism. There is so much richness of history and culture to learn about in these places, beyond those unfortunate blips on their history. It’s easy to still think of Eastern Europe as “behind the Iron Curtain,” or as the former Yugoslavia as war-torn—but that’s old news, man. As I say in the guidebooks and in my slideshows, people in Croatia think about the war only when a tourist brings it up. You’re doing readers (and the people who live in these places) a disservice to emphasize the negative/provocative factors too much. A solution might be to occasionally complement these weighty articles with a lighter, more tourist-friendly look at the same places (which you have certainly done before, in places like Dubrovnik). You could write a compelling article about Mostar, Dubrovnik, or the Serb parts of Herzegovina without ever mentioning the war.

Hope this helps.

Cameron

Hold the Mortar and Say Dubrovnik

 

Enlarge photo

Enlarge photo

Pero Carević (a Dubrovnik B&B owner) and Cameron Hewitt (co-author of my Croatia and Slovenia guidebook — just out in its first edition) met me at the Dubrovnik airport. Coming in from France, I suffered a little culture shock. Life here had the same energetic metabolism…but cheaper jeans, smaller cars, more broken concrete, and almost no fat people. Pale meat, pale pickles, and pale “juice drink” — all part of a tentative stability and affluence following their devastating civil war.

Within a few minutes’ drive, we were parked at the towering base of Dubrovnik’s mammoth and floodlit walls. Pero walked me to his boutique guest house on a steep, tourist-free lane in Europe’s finest fortified port city.

Offering me some orakojvica (the local grappa-like firewater), Pero explained that he was wounded in the war but was bored and didn’t want to live on the tiny government pension — so he rebuilt his Old Town home as a guest house. Hoping to write tonight with a clear head, I tried to refuse the drink. But this is a Slavic land. Remembering times when I was force-fed vodka in Russia by new friends, I knew it was hopeless. Pero made it himself…with green walnuts. Giving me the glass, he said, “Walnut grappa — it recovers your energy.”

Pero described — holding the mangled tail of a mortar shell he pulled out from under the counter — how the gorgeous stone and knotty-wood building we were in suffered a direct hit in the 1991 siege of Dubrovnik. I didn’t enjoy touching it. The bedroom Pero grew up in was destroyed. His injury will be with him for the rest of his days. In spite of how those towering and mammoth walls were impotent against an aerial bombardment, life here was, once again, very good.

I took Pero’s photograph. He held the mortar…and smiled. I didn’t want him to hold the mortar and smile…but that’s what he did.