I never cared much for my country, which is tragic because it's small, poor and generally speaking helpless. There aren't that many people who understand it, and it can scarcely afford the disinterest of those precious few who do -- yet it never manages to retain their goodwill.
But then again, tragedy is the only certainty of life ; and so for this Christmasi let's look at the stubborn whore in the best possible light. Let's wash her up, let's dress her up, let's make her up and then sit her down and let the cameras roll. Action!
There's a lot of action in Romanian cinema, especially in the Romanian New Wave. The reason is that Romanian cinema, without exception, is a story of men -- and the new wave especially so. Especially so, exactly like all the prior waves before it. Exactly like the entirety of Romania, society and language, prostitution and religious experience, economy and theosophy, geography and history, practical zootechny and functional analysis. How can this be ? Oh I don't know, it can be. Somehow, it can be.
Eu cind vreau sa fluier, fluierii is the story of a man. He's a taurine sort, the kind that carries the world on his back, undeterred by the plowing flies even should they occasionally bite. This man has a brother, a kid who respects him as a god (which is proper, because he is). The man also has a mother, who is a whore. She doesn't matter. The man also has a love interest, who is a maiden with pretty lips. Not much more than a cup of coffee comes of it, because the man also has a prison, which is run by a warden, with whom he has no substantial disagreement : they both aim to protect the kids from the whoresiii. The film has a very happy ending : after a brief exploratory excursion in the land of the maidens, the man trades his share of the maiden herdiv for nuking the whore that originally traded her share of this life to ruin his. These minor, transient impediments resolved, the man and his warden are reunited in his big house, and live there happily forever after. The end.
Marilena de la P7v is the story of a man. This man has a horde of whores, because he is a pimp. One of the whores is magical -- her touch surges electricity. She falls in love with an idiot, because she is a whorevi. A child recognizes the unicorn, and steals his parents' savings to gift her, and tries to steal the bus his father drives, too. The whole world. His reasoning is fundamentally judicious if defective in implementation. If the gimps don't hang him first he will be a man one day. The dumb whore, wilfully blind to all around her, cuts her own neck. She doesn't want to choose what must be chosen, she wants to choose what she wants to choose. This is what whores do, and what makes them whores. The world ends -- la joie'st ailleurs.
Occidentvii is the story of a man. He is a colonel in the local police, which practically means he has a few men and a whole lot of gimps at his command. He also has two women - one cooks and the other opens the door. He doesn't think very much of either, but then again what can you do. They do each other's hair. He has a daughther, with the infangwif, and acquires a son through the offices of the outfangwif (who runs the equivalent institution for girls), in the shape of one of her workers' ex boyfriend. The man's daughter is a whore ; his son almost could have been a man -- but isn't. The whole film is essentially the story of the man trading out the whore for the broken son because who knows, maybe he can be fixed. God knows she can't be. The entire transaction is practically facilitated by a magical Jew with a ponytail from Germany that the man showed kindness to once, in a different life.
I understand that you'd like for women to have a voice in this world. That's nice, and Romania'd also like to matter in the eyes of those men who matter. Sadly the solution to these far fetched desires doesn't come in the shape of idle pretense.
What can you do ?———
- Do you know what Christmas is, incidentally ?
I don't think this is possible, outside of Orthodox practice. I also don't think it matters, but then again that's my priviledge. [↩]
- 2010, by Florin Serban, with George Pistereanu. [↩]
- And for that matter from their allies, the faceless gimps. You know, like you. Like everyone you ever knew. Or will ever meet.
You're, to quote some random idiot, "engaged in a war against terrorism with that ideology". As the Romanian expression goes, nu va vad in clar. [↩]
- Yes, exactly : his share of the maiden herd. "Consensual relations" in the sense that you'd better find someone to consent with, and quickly. Or else. [↩]
- 2006, by Cristian Nemescu, with Aura Calarasu [↩]
- Not by occupation, which is incidental, but by substance. This is what whores do, and what makes them whores : falling for idiots. [↩]
- 2002, by Cristian Mungiu, with Dorel Visan [↩]