Capturing the Invisible: How Filip Filković- Philatz Turns Memory into Cinema
To start, could you briefly introduce yourself to Erasmus+ students and volunteers – who is Filip Filković today, and who was he at the beginning of his creative journey?
Today, I am a director and visual artist trying to balance between the most advanced technology and the deepest human memories. I see myself as a “digital alchemist” using modern tools to preserve fading emotions. At the beginning of the journey, I was just a curious kid in Zagreb with a pencil and a camera in hand, fascinated by how an image could capture a moment that would never repeat. That initial curiosity is still there; it is the only engine that drives me.
Your film The Last Well has won numerous international awards. What does the success of that film mean to you today, with some perspective?
That film was a confirmation that a local story, if sincere, can communicate universally. Today, I see it as an important lesson that limitations, whether budgetary or technical, actually foster the best creativity. Its success gave me the freedom to explore further, but also a reminder that the idea is always stronger than expensive equipment. Likewise, The Last Well is a solid foundation for future projects- I am preparing a feature film and a new short film, as securing funding for a feature is extremely difficult.
What does your creative process look like – do you start with an image, sound, text, or idea?
Always, every work begins in the human territory, in the mind and on paper- or rather, the Notes app on my iPhone. I first write down sketches, details, scripts; I believe verbalizing thoughts is a purely human skill in which I don’t involve algorithms. Only when the story “breathes on paper” do I begin visualization. Sometimes, a smell or sound triggers a memory, and then I try to recreate that feeling.
If you were today an Erasmus+ student coming to Zagreb for the first time, where would you seek inspiration- in the streets, in people, in architecture, or in subcultures?
I would seek inspiration, as always, from the need to learn or experience something. Mountains of books, music, films. But I would also look for inspiration in the “cracks” of the city: in the courtyards of Donji Grad, in the brutalist architecture of New Zagreb, and in those small, old crafts that still resist time. Inspiration lies in the contrast between old Viennese charm and raw industrial energy, generally speaking.
What do you think young artists today can learn from the DIY approach- creating without a big budget but with a strong idea?
Absolutely everything, because the DIY approach teaches resourcefulness. Back in the day, when we filmed low and high-budget spots, we built setups that were functional and allowed creativity. Today, when everyone has a powerful tool for filming and editing in their pocket, excuses about “lack of budget” no longer hold. Young people need to understand that lack of money is actually an opportunity to be more innovative. A strong idea will always find a way, while expensive visuals without soul quickly fade. Of course, large budgets can expand your horizons and creativity; for almost all my current projects, a budget is necessary because I’ve outgrown satisfying my passions with simple ideas.
Do you notice a difference between the generation that grew up without the internet and today’s digital generations in the way they think and create?
Everyone emphasizes these differences, often creating unnecessary divisions. Those of us who grew up without the internet had “endless time” and the calm of an analog world. We had to wait for information, and that waiting encouraged imagination. Today’s generations have incredible speed and connectivity, but sometimes struggle with focus due to “digital noise.” The difference is in the texture of memories- ours were grainy and rare, theirs are high-resolution and abundant. But fundamentally, humanity- the essence of who we are- is always the same. Times change. Even though I recently worked on the project Spomenara, which evokes old times, I refuse to live in the past; my absolute focus is on the future. The past only gives clarity on what worked and what didn’t, creating a connection to heritage.
What mistake would you advise young people to definitely make while still students?
Work as much as possible; mistakes come with work. Wrong collaborators, tears, failed relationships, wrong decisions, good decisions, more tears- not to be feared or hidden- maybe depression, maybe success, but in the end, it’s important to be human. Specifically, it’s important to undertake the wrong project, one that no one will like, that isn’t trendy, and that is completely non-commercial. Student days are a time when you can afford complete unproductivity in search of your own voice. You learn more from failure born of pure passion than from safe success. And in the end, when you know you’ve created something with your own hands, it’s a wonderful feeling.
What is the greatest strength of young people today- speed, connectivity, courage, or something else?
Connectivity is the greatest strength. Collaborating with someone on the other side of the world in real time breaks boundaries and creates hybrid forms of art and creativity that were unimaginable before. The global empathy they can develop through technology is a huge power.
Do you think it is harder or easier today to build an authentic artistic voice than 20 years ago?
Technically, creating is easier, but being heard is harder. We live in a sea of generic content. Authenticity is a more valuable currency than ever. To be heard, you don’t have to shout louder; you must speak more honestly. Voice is no longer built with equipment but with integrity and vision.
How did growing up in Zagreb shape your aesthetic and worldview?
For me, Zagreb has a specific “working temperature,” a mix of Austro-Hungarian melancholy and socialist discipline. It’s a city not too big to swallow you, but large enough to find countless worlds. This mix of order and hidden chaos is inspiring. However, I’ve learned the most important lessons about life and my craft through travel. The more travel, education, literature, and interactions with people, the clearer what might be missing or needs work becomes.
Which part of Zagreb carries the most creative energy for you- the center, New Zagreb, industrial zones, or neighborhoods?
A mix of everything- it’s really hard to choose. Center, Upper Town, New Zagreb, and industrial zones. There’s something about that concrete and open space that leaves room for imagination. The center has a beautiful facade, but the outskirts are where real life and transformation are felt. And that’s where work still needs to happen. For example, on a day when I’m least motivated, a walk through the Upper Town can absolutely turn everything around.
You were born in 1983- how much were you influenced by the visual and musical culture of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s?
Deeply. That is my visual DNA. More, of course, from the ‘90s. My brother was very into music and passed it on to me. While everyone at school listened to E.T. and some local nonsense, I listened to The Prodigy, Leftfield, Autechre, Aphex Twin, The Chemical Brothers. That all had a huge influence on me. My father had a video rental store at the time, so I had access to all kinds of films, from which I absorbed and defined my current niche.
What do you think today’s generations can learn from the creative freedom and subcultural rebellion of the ‘80s?
In short, they can learn that art is not made for algorithms. In the ‘80s, we created because we had to, without worrying about how many people would see it the next day. That rebellion against the “perfect” and the “acceptable” is something we chronically lack today, in a world optimized for clicks.
Were the ‘80s braver in experimentation than today, or is that just nostalgia?
They were braver because there was no fear of immediate public judgment. Today, everyone has a platform to critique, often pushing artists into a “safe zone.” In the ‘80s, experimentation was more authentic because it was isolated from external pressures of the global attention market.
How much did analog technologies (VHS, cassettes, posters, graffiti) shape the way you view visual culture today?
They taught me to value texture. In the analog world, mistakes were part of character- the “glitch” on a tape or a peeled poster on a wall told a story. Today’s digital perfection is often sterile and soulless. As a kid, I learned photography from master Josip Božić, who few remember today. In the ‘80s and ‘90s, he hand-drew posters for films shown at the SC cinema. He taught me the craft basics, the importance of light and soul. I remember him saying some people just carry cameras, but as creative people, we must carry the camera as our third eye. Then he opened a huge album of female nudes and said, “sometimes, we must photograph for the soul too.” I understood him in my own way, and I apply that lesson in my work to this day- “for the soul,” I make work primarily for myself, because I like it.
If you were shooting a film today inspired by the ‘80s aesthetic in Zagreb, what kind of atmosphere would it have? Do you plan something similar in the future?
The budget would explode due to the level of precision I’d insist on. It would have a blue hour atmosphere- the moment of twilight when streetlights turn on and the city quiets. It would be a film about silence and small gestures. Through the series Spomenar, I am already filming that film, fragment by fragment. I plan to eventually combine these fragments into a larger work that pays homage to that forgotten sense of security.
What message would you give Erasmus+ students and young volunteers who want to leave a mark in the creative industries?
Curiosity is key. Be curious explorers, not just consumers. Use your time in another country to see what locals no longer notice. Don’t be afraid of technology, but don’t let it think for you. And most importantly, seek stories in people, in their memories and dreams. People sometimes speak but don’t listen; you need to listen and truly hear, not just process information. The mark you leave will not be in the technology you use, but in the emotion you awaken in others. Technology is a tool; you are the soul.
Thank you for taking the time to read this story! We would love to hear your thoughts or anything you’d like to share- feel free to leave a comment below.
Loreta, OLS Community Manager- Croatian