Au-delà des collines

Well,I wanted desperately, not to like, to love this movie... All the premises were there, I couldn't wait for the film to be released... But, as the film was developing in front of my eyes, I was completely feeling less...No attachment to the girls, I didn't even care for one damn second about any of them, the film scratches everything that is supposed to carve upon, the director seems in a hurry to reach something that slips between his fingers...I felt no compassion for that girl, in some moments I was about to scream to her, get out of that place, girl, return to Germany, live your life and put ourselves out of the misery of watching this movie!And one more thing. The performances of both girls, cumulated, multiplied by 100, they never, ever, never ever, are any close to the magnificent performance of Emanuelle Riva in Amour... So , Nanni Moretti, I don't really know what came to your mind when you gave that award to these two, frustrating the beautiful Riva of that super-deserved award

Albert Camus said, "The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding." These words become prophetic in Romanian director Cristian Mungui's Beyond the Hills, a powerful tale of religious and emotional obsession that leads to tragic consequences. Like his award winning abortion drama, 4 Months, 3 weeks and 2 Days, the Palme d'Or winner at Cannes in 2007, it is deliberately paced and can be demanding to the viewer unaccustomed to long takes without cuts or camera movements. Set in a remote Orthodox Christian convent in rural Moldova known as New Hill Monastery, Beyond the Hills is a social drama based on two books labeled "nonfiction novels" by Romanian journalist Tatiana Niculescu Bran concerning an exorcism in 2005 that became sensationalized in the press.

Filmed in -15 degree weather during the heaviest snow season in years, Oleg Mutu's cinematography makes us feel the bleakness and the cold, damp air inside a convent that has no electricity or running water. As the film begins, Alina (Cristina Flutur) has returned from Berlin to the town in which she grew up. She is met at the train station by Voichita (Cosmina Stratan), her best friend and partner since their years together in an orphanage. Voichita believes she has found her direction, however, in the convent where she is a novice and has become emotionally attached to the priest she calls "Papa" (Valeriu Andriuta) and the mother superior (Dana Tapalaga).

Alina, a sometimes believer, has come to rescue her friend from what she feels is the church's domination and is unprepared for Voichita's unwillingness to leave with her and work together on a German cruise ship. She tells Alina that she has found a sense of family and has been changed by her experience. Though she lovingly invites her friend to give herself to the Lord, Alina feels betrayed. A tug of war develops between the church's fear of the "unbeliever", and their wish to provide sanctuary, knowing that Alina has nowhere else to go. Under threat by those around her, Voichita finds herself torn between her one and only friend and her devotion to God.

Desperate for affection, Alina flirts with suicide and her growing paranoia makes her suspicious of everyone in Voichita's life. Soon, her repeated fits of hysteria land her in the local hospital, but the anti-psychotic drugs provide only a temporary solution. When the doctors tell the priest that there is nothing further they can do to help, Alina is returned to the convent but the situation does not improve. The distraught girl does leave on her own to go back to her last foster home, but gives up all her possessions and returns to the monastery, unable to stay away from Voichita.

Ultimately, the priest is convinced that she is not just a sinner, but one possessed by the devil and must undergo an exorcism. Without her consent, Alina is tied to a cross with ropes and chains and her mouth gagged to prevent her screaming as the service is performed. Beyond the Hills is an intense and haunting film, and the performances of Flutur and Stratan, who shared the Best Actress award at Cannes, add depth and complexity to the film's moral universe. Under Mungui's direction, the film avoids pointing the finger. There are no good guys and bad guys and everyone involved thinks they are acting in Alina's best interests, but they are sadly myopic.

Regardless of their good intentions, each character is so caught up in the narrow scope of their vision that they cannot see beyond their immediate self-interest. What becomes lost is the ability to look beyond rituals and forms to find the substance - love, charity, and compassion. According to Mungui, the film "speaks about guilt but is more concerned with love and choices, with the things people do in the name of their beliefs, the difficulty of telling good from bad, understanding religion literally, indifference as an even greater sin than intolerance and freedom of will." When these factors are present, tragedy cannot be far away.

Mungiu has managed in his films a perfect balance between portraying specific Romanian social-cultural issues and in the same time rendering them universal for the public abroad. He touches some of the Romanian taboos like the Orthodox church and its often brainwash practises, the efficiency of God-like doctors or the dark side of some of the do-gooders in social aid and work. The irony is that while all the characters in the film proclaim often and loud that they are sympathetic towards the orphan girl they are also the authors of her greatest abuses , from financial rip off to medical neglect or physical restraint .The system itself is rejecting the poorest and most vulnerable young people as is pointed out throughout the film by the recurrent motif of 'we have nowhere to go' leaving them in the hands of an often merciless world .In the very best of tradition of the superstitious Christian Romanian culture the real problems are avoided as they will throw a negative light back on everyone so it is easiest to blame all on evil spirits .The last scene gives a great insight into an emotionally devoid society , when such individual drama will become another media circus headline.

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

'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.