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EDGETOWN

Directed by: Kokan Mladenović

Stage design: Vesna Popović

Costumes: Maja Mirković

Composer: Irena Popović

Poster and booklet design: Milja Mladenović

Cast:

SLOBODAN child, 10 years old

DRAGICA, his mother – DRAGANA RADOJEVIĆ

SLAVIŠA KUČINARAC, his father – LJUBIŠA BAROVIĆ

SVETOLIK, chief inspector – SAŠA TORLAKOVIĆ

FAT MIŠKO, inspector – VLADIMIR MILOJEVIĆ

JAP, police officer trainee – NIKOLA BREKOVIĆ

MARIJA, a childless girl, used to be from the country, now from the city – MILICA JANEVSKI

MARIJA’S MOTHER – ALEKSANDRA PLESKONJIĆ

DRAGAN, a lad – STRAHINJA BAROVIĆ

STANIKA, his mother, called crazy – ANETA TOMAŠEVIĆ

LASS, would like to be Dragan’s – KRISTINA PAJKIĆ

TOMATO, a lad, Slobodan’s friend – SLOBODAN PETRANOVIĆ- ŠARAC

PETKANA, grandma – SONJA MILOJEVIĆ

UNCLE DRAGOLJUB, busybody – IVAN TOMAŠEVIĆ

POP, cellarer – ZORAN KARAJIĆ

WOMAN 1, WOMAN 2 – Slaviša’s aunts – DEANA KOSTIĆ, ALEKSANDRA RISTIĆ

LJUBINKO, Slaviša’s friend – MILOŠ VOJNOVIĆ

KILE THE WAITER – SINIŠA MAKSIMOVIĆ

MITA, four eyes – MARKO RIBIĆ

Stage manager: Sofija Karajić

Prompter: Zorica Stevanović

WORDS OF THE DIRECTOR

…Where there is no empathy.
Where no relationship is functional: mother-child, father-child, husband-wife, boyfriend-girlfriend…

Where each patch of ground is hiding a dark secret.
Where logic and common sense give in.
Where emotions are shown only by those who have renounced reason.
Where you won’t find the one you’re looking for.
Where the one being looked for won’t be found.
That is where Edgetown lies.
And it would be great if it were really there. But – if it is there, how come that we are all living in it?

Kokan Mladenović

WORDS OF THE AUTHOR

When I was a little boy, I used to hear people cursing their children with a Turkish phrase “Haram to you”.

When I was seventeen, I wrote a story which ended with “Millions of children drown in their parents’ shit each year. Or they learn how to swim.”

When I was 31, I wrote Edgetown.

Now I’m 37.

Serbia is still cursing its children. We drown in shit and find it increasingly hard to swim, since we’re at our strength’s end. On the edge.

Ninoslav Đorđević