First, let me introduce the concept of binging to the old guard. That's what you get when you watch the entire series in seven and a half hours on bread and water. Two such shameless nights, and the question opened up in me, what is a series, and it must be a series, that is, what more sense do the episodes have?
That's the man of the new age, he skips the commercials to enjoy the booze, and all that narcophile is looking for is an excess of drama, which will make him completely numb and roll over on the couch at dawn.
Ok, if the elders caught this, it's time for me to express my condolences for Gigo Moravec. The problem is that I then have to explain to the young woman who Giga Moravac was. And let me add why it is important to me, from the middle fucking generation, which drew itself in front of the televisions at a time when society was moving from peace to war.
The series "Bolji život" (1987-1991) was the last major announcement of television as a means of education and entertainment for the ancient Yugoslavs. Everything after Better Life became greasy, less important and incoherent. It was a series that organized time, consolidated the rite of weekly bathing, determined the range of civic thinking and how far one can think about the disintegration of the system.
The significance of the Better Life is difficult to explain to millennials and anyone who feels that way. A Better Life was the beginning and end of the week, and the time between episodes arranged to flow without friction that would undermine the foundations of the socialist order. From today's media mental hospital, Better Life emerges as a memory on Holy Sunday and peace. Such a series was only possible in the time before Eva took the remote control and the loan, before Adam went to the private sector, in a long time ago when the screen was an undemocratic border, with mandatory quality control.
A better life was a carefully directed social session, each member of the family chose a hero to communicate through him with the authority of television, behind which the state still stood. That series was the last social property, a fictional public service, and Giga Moravac, the hero that the state could only offer at that moment, Don Quixote in bankruptcy, a salesman with a cup, the last hero of the landline, worshiped and powerless. That's why it was true.
Gigi's pet son was rebellious just enough not to get stuck in prison, the wife emancipated enough not to leave him, and the daughter in shorts as short as the domestic eye could see after the diary. Enough. Everything in the Better Life was constructed on the verge of not falling apart, to defend what was sinking heavily, the myth of a bourgeois class that would survive, even though it had not even formed to be valid.
Actor Marko Nikolić had a face and an unusual focus that you could trust, important roles in the theater, awards and films, but his entire career, even if he was Black Djordje a hundred times, had to go hand in hand with the character of Giga Moravac. Marko Nikolić was an actor embedded in a cultural myth, he was among the few who could feel what the power of the media and the hope of the middle class meant, before everything fell apart, first the state, then thousands of small screens, to even smaller screens that have not offered images for a long time , but CMS content and customized files.
Today, Giga Moravac looks like cultural prehistory, it is a reminder that the XNUMXs were the intersection of war and technological revolution, two earthquakes that would individually crush entire generations, and when they come together, they leave waste and smoke behind.
That's why through the smoke that pinches my eyes, through the barbed wire of YouTube and the urge of Netflix, I watch Giga Moravac go out of sight for the second time. I haven't felt in a long time that an actor is going to join his role, with which he will forever remain one.
Bonus video:
