This shift was first explored and then capitalized by the directors now known for their contributions to the movement, namely Makavejev and others like Želimir Žilnik, Aleksandar Petrović, Mika Antić, Žika Pavlović, Krso Papić and more, but parsing the tricky cultural balance between innovation and toeing the party line would eventually prove too much for some. After all, the country was already operating within a precarious balance itself.

Following Tito’s de facto split from Stalin in 1948, Yugoslavia pursued a policy of non-alignment in the Cold War, and it was important that this independence was reflected culturally. This made navigating the complex influence of Socialist Realism a tricky affair as, even though it was a Soviet brainchild (and thus culturally suspect), its focus on unambiguous heroes overcoming all obstacles was a valuable asset for purposes of nation-building and consolidating the archetype of an ideal Communist citizen. The Black Wave responded to the optimism and triumph of Socialist Realist heroes with cynical and self-aware antiheroes. Milena, in her eventually doomed struggle for personal revolution, serves as a subversive parody of the Socialist Realist hero.

Her fixation on sexuality as a revolutionary force, and the emphasis on sexual expression found in the Black Wave generally, can be itself read as a reflection of the same Tito-Stalin split: there was perhaps no American cultural export at the time as notable as the sexual revolution, and its prominence in Black Wave film is a testament to mid-century Yugoslavia’s position as a hinge between the Eastern and Western Blocs. Mirrored in Milena’s own divided loyalties, the tension inherent to Yugoslavia’s position between two world orders contributes to the atmosphere of ambiguity and crisis that inflect so many notable films produced in this period.