Directed by Saša Božić, Disgrace was initially conceived for the exam in innovative directing at Zagreb Academy of Drama Art, and developed by Božić into a full-fledged production juxtaposing the novel Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee and Ingmar Bergman's film Cries and Whispers, immediately before the opening of Eurokaz.

Disgrace, the novel by the Nobel-prize winner J. M. Coetzee, is a disturbing story about the failure of moral judgement and the loss of responsibility. From this nothing if not unsentimental narrative situated in the South African Republic at the time of Apartheid, written from a Western, almost Proustian perspective, Božić abstracts the female characters, on whom the presented events are the hardest. In spite of the physical and spiritual agonies they suffer, all the women in the novel fail to find a way out of the shame of their identities. Their strength lies, paradoxically, in the meekness with which they accept violence, certain of some higher justice.

The other template, Bergman's film Cries and Whispers, takes place at an old Swedish estate, where four female characters are imprisoned. Bergman dissects the silent disintegration of their lives as a horrendous effect of the emotional and physical decay gnawing at them.

In Božić's reading, the complex but rough female characters of Disgrace unassumingly, but nevertheless surprisingly, demonstrate ideological, if not spiritual affinities with Bergman's women, triggering off an experiment which makes use of the decoupage and shots of Bergman's film to flesh out the skeletal narrative lines of Coetzee's novel.

The result foregrounds the disconsolate female body and the concealed experience of repressing one's identity. Balancing on the verge of the inexpressible, Disgrace is a serious, thoughtful theatre project where the babble and prattle of all kinds are replaced by the barely expressive movement and whispering. Three female characters frozen between life and death try to unravel the terrible secret harboured by one of them. They are held captive like modern day Sirens, arrested in the fullness of their lust, forced to present some of their stories which cannot be understood. Their narratives fall apart; motives, logic, and drives become incomprehensible; leaving only flashes and halos of meaning.

The direction highlights the difference between the spectator's perception in the theatre and at the movies, concentrating on what comes into focus and what is seen (represented). The result is a highly formal construct, bouncing off Coetzee's novel and Bergman's film, analysing the ultimate conflicts of humanity, ceaselessly underlining the gravity of the writer's question: what does it mean not to be human?

The interaction of film and literature in a theatre performance at the same time examines the limits of the media and the limits of authorship.

With their unaffected facial expression and the play of inner thrusts, the three actresses employ the language of suggestion to speak of either the “emotional pangs” they suffer (Bergman), or of the “shame of identity” they endure (Coetzee). They are tender and thoughtful, they touch and caress as unease floats about. With extraordinary attentiveness they silently follow the lines of their palms, the melodies of their feet and hair, weaving a remarkably delicate veil, not only of discarded femininity, but of the shamed humanity itself.

Saša Božić studies theatre directing at the ADA in Zagreb. He has also read comparative literature and philosophy, and his erudition, worn lightly, informs every aspect of the production. As performer, assistant director, and dramaturge he has worked on numerous dance projects; he is the founder of the troupe k.o. /kombinirane operacije. Eurokaz '05 featured their performance Barthes: Lover's Discource.  As a student at the University of Ohio, he directed Cloud Tectonics, The Maids, and The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant.