Más allá de las colinas

It is a sad story told in a fair way. You see the two characters desperately trying to save each other, but also desperately trying to keep themselves into the "safe bubble" they created around them: Voichita's bubble is the monastery, Alina's bubble is Voichita, the only human being that ever loved her.

It is the story of two girls who grew up in an orphanage (I felt a shiver trying to imagine it) and had few choices at the moment they became adults. The movie lefts many questions open. One of them, the hardest perhaps, is how was it possible that nobody (monastery, hospital, school, foster family, police, etc.) was able to help a girl, while everybody agreed on the fact that she needed help.

A KVIFF viewing of Romanian auteur Cristian Mugiu's latest gripping modern exorcism tale which has garnered two wins in Cannes this year, a BEST SCREENPLAY award and the young pair Cosmina Stratan and Cristina Flutur shared Best Actress honor, which staunchly vindicates Cristian's consistent excellence not only in his fine-tempo and well-pitched directing bent, but a robust script and ultra-overpowering cast as a whole superlative pack.

Like his breakthrough chef-d'oeuvre 4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS AND 2 DAYS (2009, a 9/10), the film anew grapples with the contentious subject-matters (this time it is about religious belief) and assigns two young girls in the main roles. The film acquaints its viewers with a secluded locale, an austere monastery (with no electricity and utilizing well water for example) is in stark contrast to the contemporary modernity, then slowly unwinds a tug-of-war in the name of love between God and human, a hapless destiny falls upon 2 girls from the same orphanage, one has become a pious nun so far, yet another is an obstinate non-believer, who chooses God as her love competitor and defies any compromise.

There is an unremitting impulse of captivation throughout the entire film which successfully banishes the awareness of its 150-minutes length. One of Mungiu's trump card is his virtuoso camera deployment, which has again fixated on a well-organized angle, especially in the indoor scenes, all the inconsequential items have been placed into incessant expositions of still paintings.

A strong-arm tension has been outstandingly established among three main characters (the said two girls plus the priest), although a few well-worn plot twists-and-turns may not survive the hindsight, however the eventual repercussion is nothing if not astonishing.

Much accolades should be granted to the film about its no shade of grey amplification of managing the thorny issue, the clear-minded of eschewing any grandiosity with a telling coda, which can never be less appreciated among cinephiles.

'Based on a true story' – a phrase that can cover so many bases - is the slow-burning and languorous Romanian film Beyond the Hills.

Set predominantly in a monastery in a bleak and poverty-stricken district, it is a complex and multi-layered film revolving around two young women, Alina and Voichita. Previously childhood friends then lovers, their lives intertwine once more when Alina returns from working in Germany in an attempt to once more enter into a relationship with Voichita who has since taken Holy Orders and is living the chaste and extremely frugal life of a nun. The rekindling of the relationship was always doomed and as Alina's mental health deteriorates with the realisation that she will not achieve her objective, she provokes a series of events culminating in the belief by some that she is possessed and needs cleansing.

A Romanian film about faith, despair and unrequited lesbian love in an impoverished monastery was never likely to be an action-packed, sensationalist blockbuster. It is long at 155 minutes and its pace tends to alternate between dead slow and stop. It's the sort of a film which will take over 5 minutes to show a nun leaving the kitchen to draw water from the well and return to the kitchen with no dialogue or plot advancement throughout that period. But it is a film that has the courage to take its time, confident that it can draw you into the lives of the people whose story it tells. And on the whole it succeeds.

There are no real villains or heroes in the film. It does not take the easy route to mock and blame religion for out-dated belief – when a nun believes she has been sent a sign from God and goes all peculiar, the Orthodox Priest in charge cuts down the hysteria curtly and tells her and the other nuns to move on. No, the people shown in this film, be they doctors, police or those of the cloth, are portrayed as well-meaning individuals all looking to do no harm even if, like all of us, they can be judgmental and self-righteous on occasion. Beyond the Hills is an unashamedly bleak and ultimately very sad film which gives no answers but merely records events leaving its audience to draw their own conclusions.

Cinematography was good, though the constant sound of the ever-blowing wind was sometimes crude and off-putting.

And there was an early failure of the sub-titles. When Alina first arrives at the monastery, the camera concentrates on a hand-written sign at its entrance. It's clearly of some import for it to be shown so, but the audience is not let in on its message. Post-film research ascertained it stated, words to the effect: This is the House of God. Forbidden to those of different religion. You must believe and not doubt. It would have explained much.

The Romanian film Dupa Dealuri (2012) was shown in the U.S. with the title "Beyond the Hills." The movie was written and directed by Cristian Mungiu.

A better name for this film would have been "Beyond the City," because the movie takes place in a Romanian convent where conditions are basically medieval--no electricity, no running water, no central heating. Ironically, the convent overlooks a modern city. When anyone from the convent visits the city, we are jarred into remembering that the action is happening today, rather than 500 years ago. A group of nuns live in the convent, which is directed by an Orthodox priest and his wife, who is the mother superior.

Two young women grew up together in an orphanage, and then separated. One of the friends, (Volchita, played by Cosmina Stratan) has joined the convent. The other (Alina, played by Cristina Flutur) has gotten work in Germany. When Alina returns to visit Cosmina at the convent, the movie appears destined to be about a liberated woman freeing her more traditional friend from the repressive religious, patriarchal, atmosphere of the convent. That's not the direction the film takes.

We learn that Alina is desperate to be with Cosmina. She wants Cosmina to leave the convent and join her in Germany. It's Alina who is troubled. Cosmina is happy at the convent, and truly believes that Alina belongs there as well.

I assumed that the convent would be a place of repression and degradation, but that isn't the case. The life is hard, but the nuns are not mistreated, and they don't appear to have been brainwashed into accepting the strict rules set down by the priest (played by Valeriu Andriuta).

The interactions between the outsider--Alina--with Cosmina and the nuns and priest take turns and twists that I wouldn't have predicted. It's a hard, cold life at the convent, and this is a hard, cold portrayal of that life, and what happens when that life is disturbed.

Beyond the Hills is a grim, but fascinating, movie about good intentions meeting harsh reality. The acting and cinematography are superb. It's definitely worth seeking out and viewing.

We saw this film at the excellent Dryden Theatre at George Eastman House in Rochester. It will work well on DVD. Beyond the Hills was submitted as the Romanian entry in the 2013 Academy Awards Best Foreign Language Film category.

A grim and intense story about love, faith, the presence of God and the absence of God, slowly penetrates the viewer's mind, so slowly that it takes Director and Screenplayer Cristian Mungiu more than two hours to make a convincing case for redemption. No doubt that he has a skilled team, to include Oleg Mutu (cinematography). This is not a horror movie; what is horrifying is the knowledge that it is based on a real story of a 2005 Christian Orthodox exorcism gone wrong, somewhere beyond the hills of Moldavia (a region in Eastern Romania). The scariest aspect is that it can happen to you, no need for a monastery or any kind of mental illness. All it takes is to express disdain against a highly controlled environment, the kind of environment that requires continuously patching the stove such that no smoke comes out to spoil the harmony of a strict yet loving family. The movie builds upon the viewer's expectancy that what can go wrong it will, and, with a remarkable lack of explicit violence, creates a gripping parallel reality where all imaginary roads are paved with good, harmful intentions. Both the priest and the doctor want to help, each in his system of reference. The police are interested in helping too, to the best of their ability. In the end, it's hard to blame or hate anybody for the strange turn of events. Even the priest (Valeriu Andriuta) draws some sympathy for his apparent lack of options. But hey, there is a bright side to this bleak work of art, not a masterpiece but still an outstanding work of art: the thin line between desire and rejection drawn by Cosmina Stratan (Voichita) and Cristina Flutur (Alina). Patched with moments of fragile silence and delicate whispers, their relationship evolves into one of the most tender and frightening love stories. Now, who harbors the Devil is still up for debate