Branko Potočan

In 1948, in the fragile post‑war countryside of socialist Yugoslavia, Marjeta gives birth to twins, Metod and Cilka. Withdrawn and volatile, Metod grows up in near isolation, shaped by a suffocating bond with his mother and a world marked by violence and repression. His impulsive behavior brings him into repeated conflict with society and the law, eventually leading to psychiatric treatment. After returning home and taking a job as a warehouseman, he appears outwardly stable, but inwardly deteriorates under the weight of alcohol, hallucinations, and relentless inner turmoil — until one night, the monster he has long concealed finally emerges.

For the End of Time is a film about the mind… a film about the body and our inability to merge these two entities which are shaping a form of civilization known under the term “human”. A human is not a being unto itself. A human is a construct… a civilization-related coding of a certain precise time and place. A human is not a uniform creature. A human is a split between many things… but the worst is the split carried inside… that between the mind and the body… How can we feel others, if the only universe that an individual truly lives in and feels is his or her own universe? How can you feel for the other… How can the other feel for you? Only as much as the pain of the other resembles yours – thus as a reminiscence of one’s own pain. This is the only way. For the End of Time is a film on a quest… for the eternal longing “to find the real thing.

The film takes us through the working day of protagonists, factory workers. Their basic working tool is their body, ready to execute strenuous manual tasks. Day after day the same story, the same faces, the same spaces, the same tasks. Feeling confined, they seek a sheet anchor, a way out, an escape. They venture into the unknown, dance, drift and float in the air.