The film festival will start next weekend. Everyone in Motovun hopes it will be as tame as last year. But there is a dash of nervousness in the air nonetheless. The memory of so many rowdy festivals in the past is not exactly pleasant to most inhabitants. Under the former mayor, it was a free-for-all. A small number of privileged inhabitants and a bunch of organizers from Zagreb were allowed to rule the roost year after year. And this is what they did without any concern for the remaining inhabitants. Which is why many people from the hilltown fled it for the duration of the hubbub. My beloved and I were among them for several years. We just could not stand the drunken crowds, the loud partying from dusk till dawn, and the vomit that covered all the streets and squares. This year, just like last, we will remain in Motovun and dedicate ourselves to the films on offer. Although I do not expect any miracles, for film as an art form has started annoying me many years ago, I still hope to see at least one film to my exacting taste. As far as I am concerned, a single film is still worth the trouble. As ever, hope is my last refuge.