Loss is a universal condition that everyone can relate to and will experience several times repeatedly. Loss can come at any time in a person’s life, and Goran Stolevski’s Housekeeping for Beginners showcases grief across generations of a chosen family. It offers a kind but harsh view of what life is like for queer people in Macedonia and the continued exclusions of Roma people in society through a mesh of playful cinematography and bold performances by its cast.

Dita (Anamaria Marinca) is arguably the house matriarch. She opts to take in outcast LGBTQIA+ youths after they have been forced to leave home by their parents who cannot accept them. She offers a roof over their heads, safety, food on the table, and most importantly a place to be themselves. It wouldn’t be surprising if most of the queer community had at some point stayed at Dita’s place. Living with her partner Suada (Alina Serban) and her two children from a previous relationship Vanesa (Mia Mustafa) and Mia (Dzada Selim), long term friend Toni (Vladimir Tintor) and his latest sexual partner Ali (Samson Selim) whom Toni allows to stay without Dita’s approval, plus several other queer women who float in and out of the day to day – Dita’s house is somewhat overrun with conflicting personalities. 

The film is chaotic in the way that life is. Following the death of Suada, Dita is forced to continue her life and look after Suada’s children. By her own words she knows she’s not much of a mother but despite her grief she does the absolute most to try and give the children and everyone in her house the best life she can. The film showcases the mundane and normality of everyday life such as going to work, having to clean up after mealtimes, attending doctors appointments, and usual parent/teenager arguments but in a way that captures the whirlwind effect of living with multiple people in an unconventional family unit. It forces you into their world unceremoniously, opening and closing with an impromptu karaoke session, and invites you to become a part of their family in a temporary way that most of them are. Their world is cramped and messy but they still have space for you. 

Humour is woven throughout, offering off-hand jokes and remarks to the sometimes dark and heartbreaking moments these characters are facing. One particular highlight is any time five year-old Dzada is allowed to simply just be in her performance as Mia – talking back to adults, telling them off for swearing, and running around with more energy than you can ever remember having in your life. It’s unclear whether these moments are improvised or scripted or just prompts were given to her to capture her reactions but whatever method was used, her reactions and performance feels carefree and authentic. Although life is complicated around her, Mia understands it very simply as ‘Dita likes Mummy’ and ‘Toni likes boys’ and she is much more interested in finishing her colouring-in or dancing to a song that she loves than the politics of society that everyone else is dealing with.

By its conclusion, this film has fully enveloped you into the dysfunctional family, pulling you in and asking you to also do your best and step up for others when you need to. Life is loud. Loss is inevitable. The world isn’t equal. But family, chosen or otherwise, should be a space where you can be yourself and love and care are at the forefront of your own actions.