17. The title of Kosara Mitic‘s feature film debut may sound simple. But, of course, nothing is simple at the age of 17. And for the protagonist, Sara, things are about to get a lot more serious.
She is already hiding a secret during a school trip. But then the trip spirals out of control, and she witnesses her friend Lina being sexually assaulted. “The two girls try to break the cycle of casual violence,” highlights a synopsis for the movie. “This seals an everlasting bond between them.”
Eva Kostic and Martina Danilovska star in 17, along with Dame Joveski, Eva Stojchevska, and Petar Manic. The film will world premiere in the Perspectives program of the Berlin International Film Festival on – no, not Feb. 17 – Wed, Feb. 18. Perspectives was launched last year to showcase emerging cinematic voices worth discovering, and 17 fits the bill.
Mitic co-wrote the screenplay for the movie with Ognjen Svilicic. The cinematography is from Naum Doksevski, with editing by Vladimir Pavlovski. Totem Films is handling world sales for 17, produced by Black Cat Production in co-production with Art&Popcorn and December.
Born in Skopje, in what is now North Macedonia, Mitic, a Berlinale Talents alumn, previously directed the short films Drop by Sometime, Birthday, and The Red Room.
THR can now premiere an exclusive clip for 17, which introduces us to Sara and Filip, played by Joweski. Watch an encounter full of sweet talk, gaslighting and tension here.
THR also asked Mitic about the inspiration for 17, showcasing female solidarity and friendship, and what may be next for her.
Thank you for the powerful movie. I felt quite a bit of pain (of course, not anywhere nearly as much as Sara) and wanted to ask what the inspiration was for this story?
The film began with a question rather than a plot. I was thinking about adolescence as a breaking point – that age where you are still forming your sense of self, and yet you are suddenly confronted with situations that demand adult emotional responsibility.
I was inspired by the emotional aftermath of a single event and how it reverberates quietly through young lives. I wasn’t interested in sensationalizing trauma or turning it into a narrative spectacle. What interested me was the silence that follows – the way young people internalize what happens to them, especially in environments where difficult experiences are quickly normalized or brushed aside.
17 is less about the incident itself and more about what it means to carry something you don’t fully understand.
Do you have inspirations or role models for your way of storytelling? It feels like a very realistic, visceral approach?
I’m drawn to filmmakers who trust stillness and ambiguity – who allow tension to exist without underlining it. I admire cinema that feels observational rather than manipulative, where the camera is present but not intrusive. With 17, I wanted to stay very close to the characters, almost in real time, so the audience experiences events alongside them rather than being guided from a distance.
Realism comes from restraint. I deliberately avoided dramatic cues that would tell viewers how to interpret a scene. Life, especially at that age, is confusing and emotionally fragmented – I wanted the film to reflect that. If the film feels visceral, it is because we never step outside of the emotional space of the girls. We remain with them, even in the moments of discomfort.
Why was it important for you to also showcase female friendship and solidarity?
Because at 17, friendship is often the most profound relationship in your life. It is where you learn loyalty, intimacy, boundaries, and sometimes even courage. Female solidarity is rarely portrayed with nuance. It is often simplified into rivalry or idealized closeness. I was interested in something quieter – in the kind of solidarity that doesn’t need to be verbalized. Standing next to someone. Sharing silence. Recognizing yourself in another person’s fear.
In the world of the film, that bond becomes a form of resilience. It doesn’t erase what happened, but it changes how the characters move forward. For me, that connection is the emotional core of 17.
How did you find and cast the girls and the sometimes horrible boys?
The casting was a search for truth. I wasn’t looking for actors performing youths – I was looking for young people who carry their own contradictions, their own silences. We searched for a long time, through open calls and conversations, building something that feels like a real class. The boys are not “horrible” to me. I see their fragility, the pressure placed on them, the emotional illiteracy they inherit. I didn’t cast villains. I cast vulnerability. For me, it was about creating a space of trust where these young people could exist honestly in front of the camera.
What’s next for you? I hope we can look forward to more features from you...
My next feature will explore the emotional violence of silence against women – the things left unsaid, the complicity of those who look away. I’m developing it carefully with Ognjen Svilicic, aiming to give the story honesty, depth and respect without exploiting trauma.
Read the full article here
