Three Kilometres to the End of the World

With 'Three Kilometers to the End of the World' (the original Romanian title is 'Trei kilometri pâna la capatul lumii', director and co-writer Emanuel Pârvu continues one of the main themes of his previous film 'Marocco' (or 'Mikado') - the confrontation of teenagers with a world in which they do not fit. The question he asks in this film seems to be not whether teenagers are ready for life and the world of adults, but rather whether the world is ready to accept them as they are. Unlike his previous film, whose story happens in Bucharest, the story in his new film, which was presented in competition at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival, takes place in one of the most isolated locations in Romania - a village in the Danube Delta, separated or connected, depending on how we look at it, from the rest of the world only by water. The waters surrounding the village are for the inhabitants a means of transportation, a source of income, a border that isolates them from the world, but also a possible path to freedom. It is an opportunity for the screenwriters (co-screenwriter is Miruna Berescu) and the director not only to immerse themselves in a new social environment, but also to use the geographical isolation and the description of the closed rural community as amplifiers of the drama that unfolds before the viewers. 'Three Kilometers to the End of the World' is a mature and solid film, which will captivate the viewers who will come to watch it, including those who are not fans of the genres to which it belongs.

The Dragoi family works hard and is not doing very well economically, being indebted to the richest man in the village. A large part of their efforts are aimed at keeping their son, Adi, a high school student in the closest large city, Tulcea, in school, with the hope that he will be admitted to the naval school. The not-so-happy routine of their lives is interrupted by a violent incident. The boy, who came for summer vacation, is badly beaten one night, when leaving the disco. At first, the family suspects that the aggression is related to the parents' financial debt, but soon they discovers that the reason is related to a personal secret: the boy is gay. Once the secret is exposed, everyone around him tries to 'correct' him: the parents, the police investigating the case, the priest. The closed society of the village, which can be seen as a scale reduction of the entire Romanian society, does not easily accept those who are different, even if they are born in their midst.

The story is told with a remarkable fluency and with the economy of means inherited from the Romanian New Wave, which now already past the age of majority. Emanuel Pârvu collaborates in this film again with the cinematographer Silviu Stavila. They create long shots, often static or with minimal camera movements. The script is very well written, with dialogues that expose the way the characters react to events that turn their world upside down. Many of the feelings are, however, even better represented by looks. The teenager hardly speaks at all, verbal communication with his parents, the police, and the priest is not possible, and his personality is more expressive through silences. Like other directors with acting experience, Emanuel Pârvu picks the best cast and works very closely with his actors. Bogdan Dumitrache and Laura Vasiliu appear in the roles of the parents, both excellent, but the most remarkable creation is that of Ciprian Chiujdea in the role of Adi. An interesting role is also played by the well-known actor Adrian Titieni, the priest who tries to rationalize his brutal intervention in the young man's life. I think that viewers will be left with 'Three Kilometers to the End of the World' with the look like a cry of pain of a young man who can be a symbol of a category of people but also of a generation that claims the right to be different from those around them.

The story develops slowly but steadily, though it may be hard to follow without first reading the synopsis, especially since it's not immediately clear that the central event is a gay bashing. Remarkably, victim Adi stays mostly out of the dialogs. We merely see him bruised but hear nothing of his perspective on the assault, while everyone around him is busy arranging things he did not ask for. Even worse, all of the running time we see Adi a lot but don't hear much from him, despite the fact he is the main protagonist and the ultimate cause.

It takes nearly one hour before the focus moves to Adi, asking him what he wants. He is "suffocated" as per a text message on his phone, wants out of the village and move to the city. After that, the other protagonists take over the story, again, and Adi disappears again out of the dialog. We see him physically present, merely being a subject of the proceedings, rather than the main protagonist. Everyone around is busy downplaying the incident, most of them especially attempting to keep it out of official records.

Adi's father can be relieved of his debt as soon as they withdraw the complaint, as offered by the father of the two assailants, promising that his two sons will be "talked to". And to wrap it all up, the police will see to it that the paperwork disappears. Things get a bit complicated when it is revealed that Adi's parents tied him up to let the priest speak a prayer on him. In his defense, the priest explains later that it certainly was not intended as an exorcism (the bishop needs to approve that), but more like a loving mother holding her child for a measle shot by a doctor who insists that is for the good of the child.

Suddenly a woman from child protection appears and takes over the proceedings, out of the hands of the police. She ignores the two fathers who were on the verge of dropping the complaint and nullify the debt in return. She is persistent, not at all satisfied with what priest and parents state about Adi being tied up for his own good. She orders everyone around and wants to know all the details. It seems to end the covering-up that was as good as agreed before. However, someone has called her boss, and she is assigned to another case. She must drop this case and leave it to a colleague.

Without making much noise, Adi packs his stuff and leaves by boat. We watch his back while sitting in the boat when the final credits appear.

All in all, I was kept interested from start to finish in the proceedings, watching everyone's efforts that could divert the case, or could end in a cover-up "for the benefit of the village", or wind up completely different. Given the setting in a former east-bloc country, I expected the story to reinforce common stereotypes, primarily having incompetence or corruption in mind. But the opposite happened. No one here seemed corrupt or dishonest in their approach, rather being uneasy with the situation without clear precedence in this rural environment. One minus point: What Adi thinks or feels is kept under the surface. Notwithstanding that Adi is obviously the main protagonist, he has suspiciously little lines in the screenplay.

It's extremely difficult to put into words what I experienced when watching this film and I found it hard to breathe for a while when I left the theatre.

Unfortunately, we know about various versions of domestic violence, and it's hard to rank which type is worse than another, but when parents are violent with their children, physically, psychologically, verbally, it causes tremendous damage that can't be undone.

The film depicts beautiful rural Romania and horrible ignorance and cruelty of the people who live there and really believe they know things when they don't. The most powerful scenes, in my opinion, are those of performed exorcism and a conversation between the social worker and the priest.

Hopefully, by watching this one, somebody will learn to be more honest, open, sensitive and compassionate.

The film revolves around a simple plot but intricately weaves each element to create a compelling story set in rural Romania, specifically in the beautiful Danube Delta.

However, the soothing and picturesque landscapes conceal ugly human stories. One character humorously criticizes his fellow countrymen, saying it's a beautiful country but with not-so-nice people.

The film explores rural Romania's general attitude towards homosexuality, interweaving themes of corruption, superficiality, over-religiousness, and power abuse. These elements paint an authentic and shockingly real image of Romanian society in the 2020s (and in Europe!).

The filmmaking is masterful and never excessive. One of the most appreciable aspects of this film is the director's ability to create a powerful work without resorting to over-the-top methods, grandiloquent camera angles, or epic music.

The film is exactly what it needs to be, contrasting with many recent cinematic works that tend to overdo it to impress. It's a reminder that, in the end, the simplest meals, made with the best ingredients, are often the best. Just as the best chefs are identified by their ability to create exceptional basic dishes, Emanuel Parvu achieves wonders with a simple yet powerful film.

"3 Kilometers Until the End of the World" is a must-see for those who crave good cinema as much as they crave a good book on a Sunday afternoon.