The title isn’t an order; it’s a plea. Wind, Talk to Me, Stefan Djordjevic’s feature debut, began as a portrait of the director’s ailing mother, Negrica, and was set to follow her as she battled cancer in the family’s little lakeside house in the Serbian countryside. When she finally passed, the film became something else entirely: a portrait in absentia. Weaving glimpses of the woman’s last days with shots of relatives trying to process her departure, Wind dances between past and present to resurrect Negrica through the memories she left behind. Djordjevic interviews his family as thoroughly as he inspects (and eventually renovates) his mother’s final retreat, which is another way of saying that Wind is interested in the woman’s relationship with people and spaces, animate and inanimate forces alike. Even (perhaps especially) as death drew nearer, Negrica believed that the border...