‘God Will Not Help’ Locarno Review: A Mystery Beyond Words

‘God Will Not Help’ Locarno Review: A Mystery Beyond Words

Hana Jušić’s drama follows a Chilean woman who arrives in an isolated mountain community of Croatian shepherds in the early 20th century, claiming to be the widow of their émigré brother. Her presence unsettles the family and alters its fragile balance.

Walking while praying through the meadows, Teresa (Manuela Martelli) arrives at a house. The woman, dressed in black from head to toe, is Chilean and speaks only Spanish. And the house sits in a valley in the mountains of Croatia. In that house lives Milena (Ana Marija Veselčić), equally alone, who receives her without understanding a word. Communication between the two is difficult—almost impossible—since neither speaks the other’s language. But little by little, Teresa manages to convey to Milena the basic and essential fact: she is the widow—or at least claims to be—of Marko Mitrovic, the young woman’s eldest brother. And although she doesn’t say it outright, it becomes clear that she has come not only to deliver the remains of her deceased husband but also to settle there, claiming her share in the family’s inheritance.

That’s the starting point of this enigmatic Croatian film, set in the early 20th century, whose initial axis is the difficulty of communication between the characters. Gradually, as days pass and with the help of an illustrated book, Teresa learns a few words in Croatian and manages to make herself somewhat understood. It becomes clear that the rest of Milena’s family is up in the mountains tending sheep, and that Milena, considered the “useless” one of the family, has been left behind. Nikola (Mauro Ercegović Gracin), her aggressive younger brother, arrives soon after, surprised by Teresa’s presence and slightly distrustful of her, but nonetheless takes both women to the mountains to join the rest of the clan.

Once there, the challenges continue: some believe Teresa brings bad luck when strange events occur in the area, others are unsettled by her constant praying, and, ultimately, no one knows quite what to do with her—except for Ilija (Filip Đurić), the eldest brother, who accepts her, shares her religious devotion, and protects her from the suspicious stares of the others. All of this unfolds under a constant haze of incomprehension, as the characters seldom manage to communicate clearly. Meanwhile, Teresa seems to have some intense nightmares, and the “family” situation gradually darkens as days go by.

A mysterious, slow-burning film, God Will Not Help draws the viewer into the tangled web of family ties and power dynamics among the Mitrovics—ties involving money, land distribution, internal rivalries, and past histories we’re never fully told. At the same time—and perhaps more importantly—we get to know Teresa, a devout yet manipulative woman who clearly holds secrets and withholds the truth. What kind of secrets is she hiding, and for what reasons? The Chilean actress and filmmaker (1976) creates a character complex enough to keep us constantly guessing about her intentions and backstory.

Jušić takes her time narrating this clash of cultures and genders: at 137 minutes, the film stretches beyond what’s strictly necessary, especially in its long-winded third act. Yet its excessive length doesn’t undo the atmosphere achieved—the tension sparked by each new development, each subtle discomfort. Language remains a constant theme throughout: Teresa’s inability to communicate with the family only fuels suspicion, since she can’t answer their questions. Nonetheless, the bond she forms with Milena and Ilija—both in their own way somewhat out of place there—goes beyond words.

Jušić has crafted a story with a novelistic spirit and a quietly growing feminist undercurrent. She sets it in a time and place rarely explored in cinema, one that at times even lends it a western-like quality. And while its pacing may test some viewers’ patience, the film’s thematic power—its meditation on bonds that transcend language and defy patriarchal or familial dictates—outlasts its weaker moments.