SIERANEVADA B
Romania France Croatia
Macedonia Bosnia-Herzegovina (176 mi)
2016 d: Cristi Puiu
Romanian director Cristi Puiu, the writer/director of the
acclaimed film THE DEATH OF MR. LAZARESCU (2007), has roots that can be traced
back to Eugène Ionesco’s theater of the absurd, and while his earlier film was
a scathing indictment of the indifference of the antiquated health care system,
this is an altogether different animal. Anyone
who has dreaded the obligatory invite to large family dinners will have a field
day with this film, as it is the family dinner from hell, easily one of the
funniest films of the year, feeling more like Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, as it’s the meal that never comes, but is
constantly referenced in conversation by nearly everyone as the very next event
to happen, yet the characters are curiously stuck in a purgatory of paralysis,
like Buñuel’s THE EXTERMINATING ANGEL (1962), where something that can go wrong
does go wrong, creating an amazingly synchronized tour de force of both camera
movement (by Barbu Balasoiu), seemingly swiveling from a central corridor in a
family apartment yet pointing in all directions, often stuck behind closed
doors where something sinister is happening, or the door swings open and we
hear every single word of a full-blown argument, where the precision of the
verbal assault has literally wounded someone into a swooning spell, knocked
completely off their feet, or something equally paralyzing, yet also there is a
continual eruption of non-stop dialogue, like a percussive symphony of voices,
where the relentless pace of the director’s screwball comedy timing is
impeccable. Romanian filmmakers have a
thing about language, where their art preserves something unique about their
society, where they don’t wish to excise a single word, which might explain the
nearly three-hour length of this drama, which feels more like a well-written
play. The formal audaciousness of Puiu’s
sophisticated balance of camera movement and sound, however, recalls a similar
complexity from the films of Dziga Vertov, the so-called father of cinéma
vérité, using a complex editing scheme to maximize the impact of the
drama. What Puiu adds to this equation
are some of his nation’s best actors, displaying naturalism with a remarkable
stylistic flair.
Some may not find the content all that elevating, though
it’s never less than entertaining and at times is drop dead hilarious, but the
conversational material itself is mired in opinionated views, old habits,
hearsay, prejudices, rumors, gossip, jealousy, conspiracy theories,
questionable information gleaned from the Internet, and even personal threats,
where it seems to probe the banality of human existence at every turn. The film is a comic satire on the supposed
dark cloud hanging over the rising middle class after the fall of Nicolae
Ceaușescu in 1989, which spelled the end of the communist era in Romania, where
a younger generation is wealthier, more educated, with plenty more
opportunities than their parents and grandparents who remain products of an
old, failed totalitarian system that is now viewed as a disgrace. But while they have been part of the European
Union since 2007 and can afford more things, like cars, modern appliances, or
televisions in nearly every apartment, they also have short memories, as there
is no recollection of how life was lived prior to 1989. When parents or grandparents remind them,
they may as well be from another planet, showing little gratitude for the
oppression and misery that they withstood, as the Romanian standard of living
was near the bottom of the former Soviet bloc countries. The film examines what freedom has brought to
the nation, where the wintry streets of Bucharest seem mired in traffic jams
and petty squabbles, with graffiti on the walls of housing units, while the
family unit remains a picture of dysfunction.
Opening with parents dropping off their young daughter for a dance
rehearsal, they double-park on a narrow street, leaving their car unattended, where
tempers erupt when they block any oncoming traffic, unnecessarily instigating a
chaotic roadside obstacle that angers the back-up of cars that can’t get
through, creating a picture of urban malaise, where we can’t hear what’s being
spoken, but see the obvious confusion in a brilliantly choreographed comedy of
errors. Once they finally get back in
the car, instead of peace and quiet, we hear Lari (Mimi Branescu) and his wife
Laura (Catalina Moga) bicker about the costume he purchased for his daughter,
as it’s all wrong for the show, where he preferred the Brothers Grimm approach
for a Disney production, but as she rightly points out, the Grimms had nothing
to do with Mulan, so his indifference
to what she actually needs only puts added pressure on their daughter, who
doesn’t have an appropriate costume to wear.
This serves as a prelude for what’s to come, as they’re already late for
a family dinner.
Once inside, it’s like we’ve been dropped in the middle of a
Russian novel, as we are introduced to more than a dozen characters, some who
just drop in or out, with no regard for establishing names and relationships,
that will continue to be baffling to the audience throughout. Everything is on hold as they are waiting
for the priest to arrive, as he’s been delayed or is stuck in traffic, and they
can’t eat until he gets there. Making
things more ambiguous, initially we have no idea what the occasion is that is
bringing the family together. Is it a
christening, a baptism, a birthday, a marriage, a newborn, or a death in the
family? No one offers a clue. Instead, it’s a choreography of doors
swinging open and closed, with women cooking in the kitchen while characters
are constantly on the move throughout the rooms, sometimes standing in the
hallway, creating a claustrophobic effect of something that’s about to happen,
but everyone’s on hold. Typically, they
resort to bickering, creating a master class of confusion, with Larry’s mother
Nusa (Dana Dogaru) tasting the boiled cabbage to make sure it’s right, but she
also seems to be the guiding force behind adhering to the practices of an
Eastern Orthodox religion. Without her,
everyone would be at a loss. More than
an hour in, we decipher that this is a memorial service for her recently
deceased husband, where a clue is observing a suit that’s been laid out for him
on the bed, but there’s no body. Food is
everywhere, borscht and chorba (is there a difference?), cabbage rolls and
polenta, where there’s enough to feed an army, yet no one’s allowed to
eat. That doesn’t stop Lari and others
from constantly picking at what they can while they wait. While we hear 9/11 conspiracy theories,
blaming Bush for playing a part in the tragedy, all apparently downloaded from
the Internet, yet no one mentions who or what brought them all together. Easily the funniest character is Evelina
(Tatiana Iekel), a grandmother who lords over the other younger woman by
professing nostalgia and true admiration for the Ceaușescu era, which she
fondly recollects as the good old days, being a party member in good standing,
where she recounts all the good work that created a better life for these
younger woman and their families, which is more than an earful for the rest to
endure, as everyone seems to despise her views, especially since they’ve had to
endure it throughout the entire cooking process. Eventually breaking into tears is the only
thing that stops the old woman, with everyone whispering what rot behind her
back, though she appears to be dressed for a formal dinner with the Czar, wearing
one of those Russian fur hats worn by grande dames to the opera. It’s a good two hours before the priest
finally arrives, walking around every room offering blessings for just about
everything. While you’d think this would
open the floodgates, as people are famished.
Not so soon. If emotions were
stirring while waiting for the priest to arrive, they grow even nastier after
he leaves.
Enter Tony (Sorin Medeleni), rat bastard husband of Nusa’s
sister Ofelia (Ana Ciontea), who’s been accused of sleeping around with someone
else’s wife, and pounding someone into the pavement for the mere mention of
it. No one wants to let him in, but he’s
let in anyway, as it’s fitting for the occasion. Despite the gracious offer, he’s a low-life
that belligerently starts terrorizing his wife and anyone that sides with her,
creating a manic disturbance just as they’re about to settle down for
dinner. The aptly named Ofelia breaks
into a melodramatic fit and nearly faints, lying on the couch with Nusa fanning
her back to life. Suddenly it’s high
drama, with exaggerated charges and counter charges, where the event has
unraveled in discord and vicious rumors, yet it’s the kind of thing that
happens at family affairs whether you like it or not. Accusations are leveled, people’s feelings
are hurt, and someone comes to their rescue, while various family members
gravitate to the individual sides to gain insight, offer advice, and try to
calm things down. Women seem to huddle
together while the men do the same, a custom apparently that goes back to the
caveman era. Of course nothing gets
resolved, but Ofelia gets to itemize all the things she finds repulsive and
disgusting about Tony, including graphic descriptions of sexual acts he
allegedly committed, where his character suggests he’s done all that and more,
yet he’s still a member of the family, and they’re all in it together. Lingering resentment is everywhere, with
ridicule flying in every direction, where instead of full-fledged arguments
with parties screaming back and forth, they seem to gnaw at one another, pick
at open wounds, and then just dig a little deeper. In the middle of this sordid affair, Lari
gets a phone call, as he and Laura leave together temporarily, creating yet
another traffic disturbance, this time with more violent overtones, where both
he and Laura are pushed, shoved, punched at, and threatened, though somehow
they survive the onslaught. Having a
moment to themselves in the car, they internalize how they view the day’s
events, suggesting Lari’s father was no saint himself, bringing dishonor and
shame to his wife and family, who are now in the process of honoring him. As if God had struck him down with a
lightning bolt, the heavenly powers are creating havoc with the day’s events
playing out in real time, where we can only sense from afar just how deep some
of the problems are. Dark truths emerge
from the family’s past, grievances are aired, yet the eruptive forces of rage,
accusations, absurdities and laughter seem to have opened everyone’s eyes,
releasing some of the tension, creating a temporary lull in the action, yet is
it just a mirage, surrounded by more of the same? Meanwhile, the table is set, food is served,
but only a meager few are eating, as the rest are once again embroiled in yet
another turmoil happening in another room.
None of this feels earthshaking, where except for Lari in the car
speaking quietly about his father, there’s little in the way of a cathartic
emotional release where some degree of confessional truth or honesty comes into
play, instead, there’s scant evidence anything ever gets resolved. While aggravation is the driving force behind
the drama, with characters forever forced to wait, and then wait some more,
perhaps in the end they just get more used to one other after wearing each
other down. It’s a grim picture of the
oppressive forces surrounding us, where life is viewed in Sisyphean terms as an
endless altercation of unhappy families, filled with a build-up of psychological
damage apparently learned early on from childhood that we carry into our adult
lives, suggesting there is an extraordinary amount of Romanian discontent, with
few solutions in the works.
Meanwhile, perhaps a few simple instructions about parking
in congested urban areas…
No comments:
Post a Comment