In a remote desert valley in North Macedonia, Hatidze Muratova ekes out a living as one of Europe’s last wild beekeepers. Her knowledge of the bees she depends on is surpassed only by her instinctual and natural ability to care for them. The landscape is harsh but beautiful, and Hatidze’s life if one of toil and small joys. She seems content as she sells her sought-after jars of honey at local markets and cares for her ailing, bed-ridden mother.
One day, a family of nomadic cattle herders moves in and upsets the valley’s order. What follows is an outwardly simple story of loneliness, petty jealousies, and neighborly feuds. Underneath, however, is a rich microcosm of agrarian custom vs. modernization, environmental respect, and shortsighted greed. Hatidze’s story could have made for a compelling and moving narrative film, but Honeyland is a documentary, and an impossibly captured one at that.
Filmmakers Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov spent three years in the North Macedonian desert with Hatidze and her neighbors. It pairs the over 400 hours of footage down to 87 minutes of wonderfully crafted storytelling that sees right into the hearts of all involved while staying distant and unintrusive. As in a narrative film, the participants act as if there is no camera, and in doing so reveal a sometimes alarming amount about themselves by simply going about their daily business.
The film takes a turn for the superstitious when the new neighbors begin to take advantage of Hatidze by over-farming their own bees and endangering the entire honey-producing population of the valley. Curses are uttered, followed by a revolution from the bees and a plague of cattle deaths. It’s hard not to see this as a statement towards the power of belief and tradition, or as nature’s way of righting itself. In any case, it’s fascinating to watch the events unfold.
Honeyland is a documentary that doesn’t offer a lot of flash or stunning revelations, but gets by on its sheer humanity. It reminds us that a life of peasantry isn’t a death sentence and that happiness can be found in the smallest and most inaccessible places. It’s also a reaffirmation of the power that nature holds over us and our dependence on it, and that our abuse of it will ultimately lead to our downfall.
James is a writer, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.