Karla Lulić

Scriptwriter

Born:

23.11.1980, Koprivnica, Croatia

Education: 

MA in Film and Television, Sorbonne University Paris

Place of Residence:

Paris (France), Zagreb (Croatia)

Writes in Languages:

Croatian, English, French

Biography

Karla Lulić is screenwriter, director and producer, with a MA degree in Film and Television at the Sorbonne University in Paris. In 2014, she founded a production house Dobar Film in Croatia, and just finished her debut short film, a Croatian dark comedy in co-production with France IN THE NAME OF THE STRAWBERRY, THE CHOCOLATE AND THE HOLY SPIRIT, that premiered at SEEfest in Los Angeles. Her first feature in writing BURGEIS was selected at the Pavilion of Screenwriters in Cannes film festival 2016. She is an alumni of Talents Sarajevo 2015.

Sample of previous work

Projects in development

SLIJEDI… / TO BE FOLLOWED…

short fiction
developed script

In a post-apocalyptic city of Zagreb, where the water is the thing of the past and where a man is a wolf to man, only exhausted old people are wandering around, like crows scavenging the city. One day, a beautiful white Cat comes through the street, leaving its wet paw prints everywhere. If the old get the Cat, they get the water. But first, they need to stop fighting each other.

Attached to the project: director, producer
Looking for: co-producer

KeywordsPost-apocalyptic, comedy, city, water shortage, cat, scavenge, paw print, environment, ecological catastrophy, old people, magic realism

BURGEIS

feature fiction
first draft of the script

In Burgeis, excessively luxurious building were everything seems almost too perfect, the tenants live in strict and oppressive atmosphere, with secret looks, imposed rules to obey, and without any contact with the outside world. Everything falls mysteriously into gradual decomposition after the sale of the building is announced. The sand clock is triggered, leaving only 7 days for tenants to live.

Attached to the project: director
Looking for: producer, co-producer

KeywordsBurgeis, satire, horror, tenants, oppressive, rules, isolation, decomposition, building, sand clock, bourgeois, luxurious, magic realism

OGLEDALO ZA SLAVUJA / MIRROR OF NIGHTINGALES

short fiction
developed script

In an isolated village lives Dora, a local hairdresser and a professional mourner, once known as the best in the region. When she cried, she could even make the dead weep, the village was saying. One day, she receives an offer to cry for a Man Who Couldn’t Die. She refuses the offer.

Attached to the project: director, producer
Looking for: producer, co-producer

KeywordsMourner, isolation, village, cry, weep, dead, funeral, traditional, etno, ritual, fantasy, black comedy, episodical

More from Projects

Filmography and Awards

2018 U IME JAGODE, ČOKOLADE I DUHA SVETOG / IN THE NAME OF THE STRAWBERRY, THE CHOCOLATE AND THE HOLY SPIRIT, short film, writer/director

My five favourite films

  1. Valery and Her Week of Wonders (1970)
    by Jaromil Jires
  2. Visitor to a Museum (1989)
    by Konstantin Lopushansky
  3. Time of the Gypsies (1988)
    by Emir Kusturica
  4. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965)
    by Sergei Parajanov
  5. The Devils (1971)
    by Ken Russel

Favourite scene I wrote

POPPY COUNTRY FIELD / EXT. DAY

A sunny day of early summer. Noon. A village landscape of beautiful fields covered with flowers paints an idyllic colorful image. A wide dusty road in the middle of the flowery field. Next to it is a beautiful church, standing there all alone, and behind it, in the distance, the outlines of the village are gently visible.

An undertone of repetitive prayer can be heard from the church. The church bell rings powerfully and echoes over the field. Sluggish dark silhouettes of believers get out of the church. They move together towards the contours of the village by walking slowly and wobbly in the foggy dust.

4 boys (around 10 years old) separate from the group and take the dusty road in the opposite direction, leaving all behind them. They walk nicely lined up next to each other, in little shirts and tidy pants, combed nicely, the way one should be for attending the mass.

Next to the edge of the road comes a girl (around 20 years old, she can be seen only from the back) running towards the boys with flowers in her messy blond hair, holding up her long white dress. The white veil around her neck falls down and stays behind her on the dusty road.

She doesn’t notice it and continues running. She breaks the perfect structure of boys, they move apart to make room for her to pass.

They push and tease each other childishly. Three of the boys run further and disappear, while the smallest amongst them IGOR (10) slows down.

He stops in front of the girl’s veil on the road. He picks it up and turns around to see where the girl is. He only sees her outlines in the distance, getting smaller and smaller, then disappearing.

He continues walking with the veil in his hand. He turns away from the road onto a small path in the middle of a flowery field. The veil in the boy’s hand is playfully dancing in the summer wind.

His silhouette becomes smaller and smaller as he moves towards the dark thick forest on the horizon.

IGOR walks through the forest, with the white veil in his hand. He is relaxed because he knows his surroundings very well. He passes by an old well made from white stone. The stone is worn out by time, and the spinning wheel which was once used for taking out water is rusty and bent. The veil gently caresses the well as IGOR passes by.

Early afternoon. The church bells can be heard from the distance.

The veil suddenly escapes from the boy’s hand and flies towards the tree tops. The boy playfully runs after the veil. He notices it wrapped around one of the small shabby wooden crosses stuck in the ground. As if forgotten in time, the crosses stand aslope, with ivy growing all around them.

IGOR continues with the veil in his hand in the direction of the sound of the river. He sits down on the shore. The veil, spread out between the boy’s hands plays with the light and the wind. He lightly lets the veil fly away in the wind. It falls into the river after which the gentle river stream takes control over it.

IGOR curiously goes after the veil, walking next to it on the shore, and following it with his eyes. A big bush on the shore makes the veil disappear of his sight.

IGOR goes around the bush. He notices the veil wrapped around the finger of a gentle female hand, and falling into the water. The veil makes a spiral in the water, as the finger is making circles.

On a small improvised wooden raft, he sees a beautiful little girl ANA (10) with long blond hair decorated with daisies. She wears a white dress and lies down on her stomach. Her naked feet are raised behind her, and her head slightly leans onto her hand. Her eyes are focused on her playing with the veil in the water.

There are also three other beautiful little girls with her on the raft, with long hair and white dresses. Screaming joyfully, with their eyes closed and pressing their noses, they all jump together on their feet in the river.

ANA is in her thoughts, focused on her game with the veil, completely uninterested in other girls having fun. Alone on a raft, she raises her head and looks at her admirer.

He looks at her without moving, as if he was spellbound. She keeps looking back at him for a few moments, and then goes back to playing with the veil on the water surface. She shows no further interest in the boy.

IGOR starts to run, he runs back through the forest the same way he came and continues the same path in the middle of the poppy fields, toward the village road. He raises a gentle cloud of dust on the path.

He arrives on the road, right in front of a small funeral cortege. In the middle of the black cluster of sluggish old people is a coffin carried by four men in black suits, strong as a rock.

IGOR runs into the front part of the cortege before the coffin. As he impatiently tries to cut the cortege and cross the road, he bounces off the thick formation several times. The cortege moves slowly and when the coffin comes in front of him, he quickly passes under it, and crosses to the other side of the road.

He continues his run in the field on the other side. The red poppies thickly dispersed in the field. The silhouette of the boy disappears in high grass and flowers.

My favourite film quote

“Howard Beale (on the air): I just ran out of bullshit.”


Network  (1976)