2000 Year Zero
After December 1989, we all believed in a sudden and spectacular return of the Romanian Cinematography. No more party censure! No more imposed subjects! Screenplays were about to burst out of drawers. The directors were to give up the metaphoric subtle language and say it as it is. No one was thinking about money. Reality proved to be completely different. The rush for power embroiled the filmmaker’s brotherhood, not very united before either, and inoculated creative upsurges. The drawers were empty and the metaphors became, for some, a second nature. Liberty was often mistaken for vulgarity. The slow work rhythm used up the funds, usually limited, before the deadline. The financial, administrative and legal problems were as devilish as the ex-political censure. The invasion of American films drew the audience’s attention, an audience less and less interested in cinema.
Where could salvation come from?
Firstly, from outsiders, new names from outside the system, some of whom studied abroad: Radu Mihaileanu, the director of Trahir (Betrayal) (1992) and Train de vie (The Train of Life) (1998); Bogdan Dumitrescu, who made Unde la soare e frig (Where It’s Cold in the Sun) (1990) and Thalassa, Thalassa (Return to the Sea) (1994); and, later, Cristi Puiu with Marfa si banii (Stuff and Dough) (2001). In Stuff and Dough a gangster »businessman« employs three young men to transport from a city to the capital a package without knowing what it contains. All they know is that they have to reach the destination on time. Along the way they are followed by some crooks determined to stop them. The plot mirrors in simple but aggressive images how »root capitalism« has taken hold in Romania after 1989 at its most precarious level. A well-written screenplay (Cristi Puiu and Razvan Radulescu), a harsh but realistic dialogue, three actors at the beginning of their careers, each perfectly cast these are the advantages of this remarkable debut.
Lucian Pintilie is also a kind of outsider. His long French existential episode, far from studio sets, served to fashion a different perspective on film production and prompted a certain creative frenzy, as if he was trying to make up for the lost time. From 1990 till now, he hasn’t wasted any time at all: Balanta (Le chêne / The Oak) (1991), the film that paved the way to the Cannes Festival for Romanian cinema; O vara de neuitat (Un été inoubliable / An Unforgettable Summer) (1993), Prea tarziu (Trop tard / Too Late (1996), Terminus Paradis (Last Stop Paradise) (1998), Dupa-amiaza unui tortionar (An Afternoon with a Torturer) (2002), and now Cind din cap creierul iese afara (When Brains Get Off Your Head) (2003).
The same determination, motivated by an authentic calling, is found among the young generation in the films of Nae Caranfil. His screenplay for Free Sundays lingered for a long time in the pile of impossible-to-make »socialist cinema« projects until, as late as 1989, it burst into a remarkable debut film titled E pericoloso sporgersi (1992). Nae Caranfil has all the features of an auteur for him making films means writing screenplays and dialogues, directing, and even acting. His talent as a screenwriter is particularly appreciated. In 1999 Nae Caranfil was awarded the Second Prize at the Harley-Merrill contest for The Rest Is Silence. In 1998 he was awarded Best Screenplay at Namur for Dolce far niente. When he turned to directing films, his E pericoloso sporgersi was awarded the Grand Prize at Bratislava in 1992 and the Jury Award at La Baule in 1993. And his Filantropica (2002) received the Jury Award at Wiesbaden in 2002.
Where are our young?
The example of Nae Caranfil leads to a natural conclusion. We have an imperative need for young talents, who are more sensitive to the reality around them, more direct in expression, more connected to the evolution of the international cinema, and more attractive for the public. In the last seven years the student festival CineMAiubit, organized by UNATC, assumes the role to signal their presence. Not all of them will be filmmakers. The slow machine of cinema production stumbling over all kinds of obstacles, from financial to administrative ones chases most of them to the more productive neighboring fields as the television and publicity. Some try to put to use the experience gained there by returning to the big screen at the first favorable chance. Recently, for instance, Radu Muntean, after eight years of work in television and publicity, made his feature-film debut with The Fury (2002). Although it’s afficted by a former Romanian cinema disease the stupidity of the screenplay The Fury nevertheless demonstrates professionalism in other areas of direction, photography, sound, and acting. Thus, in this rambling and sometimes incoherent story a young man, in debt to a hood gangster, resorts to the most abject solutions to save his skin drew applause from audiences and favor from critics.
Others have progressed step by step from the short film to a full-length feature, as did Cristian Mungiu. After a brilliant student film, Mana lui Paulista (The Hand of Paulista) (1998), Mungiu directed three professionally realized short films Zapping, Corul pompierilor (The Firemen Choir), Nici o intimplare (Nothing By Chance) before making his feature-length debut with Occident (2002). It’s important to note that in the process Mungiu had defined his very personal style. His preferences are clear: a taste for colorful comedy-drama, a sense of humor in a well-chosen theme, a style that is not at all shrill, but tempered without minimalizing the seriousness of the chosen theme. By contrast, Hanno Höfer, his generation colleague, has never moved beyond short films: Telefon in strainatate (The International Phone Call) (1997), On the Other Side, Humanitarian Aid. In fact, he seems less inclined to embark on refined cinema discourse, preferring instead to rework variations from a base of humor and emotion.
Where is our audience?
After 1989, the Romanian public has avoided the movie theaters. The times when a Romanian film gathered 12 - 14 million people (as noted in the »Most Viewed Movies« list published in the Cinema magazine, No. 6 / 2002) remain a desired memory. Judging by the ratings enjoyed by Romanian films on television, it seems it is not a question of disinterest. The phenomena needs a more attentive analysis that cannot be treated here: Who is this TV audience? is it not perhaps the elder generation, who, for different reasons, including the financial ones, do not go to movies anymore? is it not nostalgia, rather than an appetite and commitment for cinema? And so on.
Still, 2002 signaled a positive movement. In the first place on the hit list was Garcea and the Oltenians, which beat Star Wars: Attack of the Clones and Lord of the Rings. Filantropica (see photo above) occupies a decent place as number 8, between A Beautiful Mind and Rush Hour 2. Occident beat The Red Dragon. And The Fury strives to reach them. The most encouraging echoes come from the festivals. The paradox of these years was that, even though the domestic production lingered, Romania was present in international competitions and brought home many awards. The Silver Lions at Venice were awarded to Dan Pita’s Hotel de lux in 1992 and to Lucian Pintilie’s Terminus Paradis in 1998. Cannes didn’t overlook us either, although there were no awards. Pintilie’s The Oak and An Unforgettable Summer participated in the official selection in 1992 and 1994 respectively. The Quinzaine des Réalisateurs invited Nae Caranfil’s E pericoloso sporgersi in 1993, Cristi Puiu’s Stuff and Dough in 2001, and Christian Mungiu’s Occident in 2002. These last two were also awarded at Cottbus, Thessaloniki, Angers, Trieste, Buenos Aires, Montpellier, and Leeds. Sinisa Dragin’s Every Day God Kisses Us on the Mouth was awarded Best Director and the Jury Award at Cairo 2001, the Tiger Award at Rotterdam 2002, and the Best Movie Award at Belgrade 2002. Under these circumstances, the sad year 2000 was surpassed and the renaissance of the Romanian Cinema is no longer an empty word.
Cristina Corciovescu