Animali selvatici

RMN is the Romanian translation of "MRI" - the medical machine which takes deep images of the human body including the brain. In a way, renowned Director Cristian Mungiu (4 MONTHS, GRADUATION) is examining the inner souls of his fellow countryman. An X-Ray if you will.

Mungiu's screenplay is set in a small Transylvanian village. Mattias (Marin Grigore), a brute of a man, has returned from a job for hire in Germany to reunite with his estranged wife Ana (Macrina Barladeanu) and young son Rudi (Mark E. Blenyesi) who claims to have seen something so horrible that he can barely speak. Csilla (Judith Slate) manages a local bakery and is also Mattias' old flame. There are obvious tensions, but the town is seemingly idyllic with its snow-capped mountains, abundant livestock and quiet lifestyles.

The outward peace begins to crack when Csilla's bakery is forced to hire three migrants from Sri Lanka to keep operating. The locals have balked at working for minimum wage, but, before long they aim their ire at the black workers who they equate with invading gypsies. Soon the entire populace is riled by their presence, this despite the village's own checkered history with immigration, not to mention so many of they themselves going overseas for work - doubly so now that Romania has joined the E. U..

Mungiu's intentions are clear, but, he doesn't take a direct route. His concerns are more with exploring the inner psychological forces of the villagers' behavior more than their direct actions. The key sequence is a fifteen minute long single take which places Mattias and Csilla as the focus of the frame, while the townspeople rail on airing predictable grievances.

Mungiu's method includes a pair of visual metaphors and a premonition of sorts. The script doesn't all work and the strain of drawing it all together as a whole shows at times. Still, R. M. N. Is a reminder of how universal prejudice and the various incarnations of injustice can be. The acting by Slate and Grigore in particular is quite strong and Mungiu's rigorous intelligence make a definite impact. There are a pair of arresting images towards the end that are hauntingly effective.

It's been half a decade since Cristian Mungiu's previous film, the excellent Bacalaureat/Graduation, and there's a bit of its thematic DNA in his most recent work. The movie goes beyond that though by exploring a real event which left its mark on Romanian society a few years ago, an event littered with prejudice and xenophobia. R. M. N. Is a bit messy and concludes in an unsatisfying fashion, but rewards the viewer with a layered experience.

From the get-go, there's a coldness to R. M. N. (Romanian abbreviation for Magnetic Resonance Imaging) that you can't shake - it's visual, it's seasonal and it's in the lead character, a monosyllabic bear of a man named Matthias. After an incident occurs while working abroad, he returns home, where more coldness awaits him, as he's met by a distant wife, an emotionally stifled child and a circumspect lover. His home village, set between mountains and forests, stands out by being multiethnic - predominantly Hungarians and Romanians, but also some Germans, like Matthias. The interaction between Mungiu's characters is fascinating to watch, as they transition seamlessly between languages, portraying a well-knit, burgeoning community. It is only after a couple of Sri-Lankan workers arrive to work at the local bakery that the the xenophobe's nest starts stirring.

The movie has a strong build-up, creating a tense atmosphere while setting all its pieces in place. Its characters are faced with more agency than one usual sees, working the underlying beliefs and attitudes onto the screen. And when things turn, they turn quickly and viscously, yet almost unexpectedly - feeding on a sense of unexpressed resentfulness, a feeling primed by our lead's emotional literacy. Similarly to another recent Romanian movie themed around prejudices, Radu Jude's Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, R. M. N. Climaxes at a town meeting, where all the paper-thin-arguments you're friendly Facebook neighbour would have shared are laid bare.

To me, this is where the movie wavers. Even as Mungiu tries to maintain a less than judgmental distance from its subjects, there's something so banal and un-cinematic about this kind of stand-off, that it simply cannot carry the burden imposed by the narrative arc. The scene works in spite of this, it works because of the little details and the (un)expected escalation, but it's not a worthy pay-off to what preceded it. And the conclusion that follows it even less so, being close to the absurd in spite of striving for symbolism.

Still, R. M. N. Shouldn't leave you unimpressed. It tackles big themes with passionate interest and concern, which makes up for any shortcomings, thereby proving a worthy addition to Mungiu's impressive catalogue of films.

Not sure what the message of the movie was supposed to be. There are two separate stories, one with a kid who saw something scary and is not able or willing to speak anymore after it, the second with a couple of immigrant workers who are not welcomed by the locals in the village.

Not much is happening in any of the stories, and definitely nothing that has not been depicted better in other movies.

The end of the movie is really, really confusing, with a woman who is asking forgiveness for something, not clear at all what exactly, then some bear figures hiding in the woods around her house... The movie left me with the sensation that I just wasted two hours that I could have spent in a better way.

This is not a film for those of us who watch movies casually. If you pay close attention to the gloriously intricate details of this film, the ending will leave you speechless and full of ruminations for days (maybe even weeks) to come.

The characters in this film are not cartoonish one-note ideas -- they're complex full human beings. We have a brilliant anti-hero as our lead, a morally-confused "working woman" type as our second lead, and a village whole as our third lead. Think this sounds boring? Give the film a chance and let it seep in. It's firing on all cylinders - beautiful, moody, dark, socially-relevant without being preachy or preening.

Mungiu is a master and has yet to make a bad movie.

Cristian Mungiu is undoubtedly the best Romanian director working nowadays. He got famous for winning the Palme d'Or in 2007 for his masterpiece "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days", but hasn't stopped making great films afterwards. "R. M. N." (Magnetic Resonance Imaging in Romanian) is no exception - a gripping social thriller which explores the melting point of socioeconomic forces and simple human emotions.

I had the enorme chance of attending a screening with Cristian Mungiu attending himself. Unlike other directors, he took more than one hour afterwards to discuss the film with the audience, not hesitating to even answer difficult questions in detail. R. M. N. Is a great film, but not an easy one as it's on purpose not filmed how an American film would be filmed (that's what Mungiu said himself) - so I was extremely happy that he explained a lot of the film, it turned out to be one of the most interesting discussions I've ever attended.

Although the film is slow, and at first difficult to access, it's worth sitting through, as Mungiu rewards audiences with an extraordinary showdown in form of a debate in a 17-minute single shot - one of the greatest scenes of the year. The event is based on a a real event of xenophobia and hate which left its mark on Romanian society a few years ago.

The film starts by introducing its protagonist, a monosyllabic man named Matthias who returns home after violently attacking the manager of the German slaughterhouse he works in. Once back in his Romanian village, more conflicts await him, as he's met by a distant wife, an emotionally damaged child and a lover who is quite the opposite of him - she turns out to be the hero of the film, the character we identify ourselves with. When I asked Mungiu why he chose to make an unsympathetic and brutal character as his protagonist, he explained that he didn't want to choose an American approach, that the audience always has to understand, like or identify with the main character. Furthermore, the contrast between the regressive and closed Matthias and the liberal Csilla is meant to portray the inner struggle of every human, the struggle between rational choices and animalistic instincts.

This conflict - inside every human, but equally for the village's inhabitants as well as the two very different lovers - gets serious when the xenophobic event takes place in the village. Without ever accusing an entire group of people, Mungiu shows how every single one is responsible individually and how ideologies clash when communities neglected in the process of globalisation face the antagonistic effects of a market without borders.

Although not a film for the masses, R. M. N. Is once again a very rewarding achievement by the Romanian director, who regularly gives us brilliant insights into an interesting country we watch not enough films from. But as he said himself, has no aspirations to make an English-language film, as long as he still lives in Romania.