The disparity between the haves and have-nots has been a cinematic narrative since the silent era. The past decade demonstrated how universal these strains on Western societies are from all corners of the globe. Whether Bong Joon-ho’s “Parasite” or Park Chan-wook’s “No Other Choice” from South Korea, Ruben Östlund’s European-centered “Triangle of Sadness,” Chloe Zhao’s “Nomadland,” Wim Wenders’ Japan-set “Perfect Days,” or a slew of other films, themes of economic inequality have moved on from the awkwardness of overly optimistic globalization, to often, abject desperation. In that context enters Visar Morina’s “Shame and Money,” a world premiere and Grand Jury Prize winner at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival.
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Set in present-day Kosovo, Shaban (Astrit Kabashi) and Hatixhe (Flonja Kodheli) have been attempting to raise their three young girls in the relatively quiet countryside. The couple has been milking cows they house at a family farm controlled by Shaban’s brother, Agim (Abdinaser Beka), a local school teacher. Agim and his wife have been housing not only Shaban and his family, but their mother, Nana (Kumrije Hoxha), and their youngest brother, the troublesome Liridon (Tristan Halila). When Liridon steals some of their mother’s savings and the cows that provide Shaban and Hatixhe’s livelihood, Agim’s generosity comes to an end.
The family and Nana head to Pristina, where Hatixhe’s sister Adelina (Fiona Gllavica) more affluent brother-in-law Alban (Alban Ukaj) do their best to assist them. Unexpectedly, a culture clash ensues after it becomes painfully obvious that Alban has no concept of how little his relatives earn or have the capacity to earn. He sets them up in a small apartment, which they immediately struggle to afford. To make matters worse, neither Shaban nor Hatixhe can survive off just the three days a week Alban needs them to clean his nightclub. The couple begins to scour the city for any menial jobs, but no one needs cleaners or construction work. Soon, Hatixhe finds herself being paid by her sister to essentially be a round-the-clock nurse for Alban’s cognitively impaired father. Shaban is forced to hustle on the street with other day laborers, hoping someone will pick him for a job.
After Shaban’s simmering pride costs them the apartment, the family and Nana move into Alban and Adelina’s shed. Tensions soon rise over Alban’s embarrassment with his brother-in-law’s scrounging for work in the street, while Shaban sees Hatixhe as a slave laborer for his sister-in-law. Nana, who is keeping the family afloat with her relatively small pension, wonders when they will find a permanent address so her granddaughters can enroll in school. There are few, if any, solutions, and the stress of their predicament begins to affect Shaban’s mental state.
Assisted by fantastic performances from Kabashi, Ukaj, and Gllavica, in particular, Morina smartly and subtly navigates the different perspectives of all involved. Despite these events occurring a half a world away, the challenges are very close to home. In this current economy, the fates of Shaban, Hatixhe, and their family could await you or anyone in your sphere faster than you may want to admit. There are no safety nets. Morina’s unintended lesson is a valuable one: family is not a financial fail-safe.
Moreover, hypocrisy is afoot. Even the seemingly well-off Alban is beholden to his own family’s money to keep their lifestyle afloat. Perhaps that’s why he’s so willing to help Shaban or so frustrated that his brother-in-law can’t do better. He continually asks Shaban for an updated CV that he can circulate to help him find a job. Shaban is a smart man, but he either doesn’t know what it means or what to even put on a resume. Pride, ego, and, as the title suggests, shame, all rears their ugly heads.
Can there be a happy ending? You would’t think so, and Morina leaves a few too many questions or backstories unanswered, but he does find a glimmer of hope in a narrative fake-out that is admittedly more effective than it should be. More importantly, he’s fashioned a film that won’t feel like an isolated story in a small Balkan nation. Shaban and Hatixhe’s fight for survival is so real, you might consider “Shame and Money” closer to a docufilm than a fictional narrative. A depiction of a living nightmare too commonplace in this day and age. [B+/B]
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Editor-at-Large Gregory Ellwood is one of the entertainment industry's most respected journalists and critics. Based in Los Angeles, he's the only current awards expert who previously worked on Oscar campaigns at a major movie studio. Over the years, he has written for the LA Times, Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, and Vox, among others. He also co-founded the entertainment news site HitFix, which spawned a legion of influential Emmy and WGA Award-winning alumni.
