Romanian auteur Cristi Puiu embarks on a new cinematic expedition following his magnum opus Malmkrog, a mesmerizing 200-minute period chamber piece inspired by Russian philosopher Vladimir Solovyov’s 1915 work, War, Progress, and the End of History.
His latest venture, MMXX, is enveloped in the trials of the annus horribilis 2020, marking a thematic revisitation to his serial narrative endeavor, Six Stories from the Outskirts of Bucharest, although the director has yet to acknowledge this integration.
MMXX, an observational cinema oeuvre spanning 180 minutes, intricately navigates through the lives of four individuals across four sequences and nearly seamless shots. Termed “a human comedy” by Puiu himself, the film delves into the profound contemplation of the human condition amidst a tableau of global crisis and personal quandaries characteristic of the pandemic epoch.
MMXX opens with Oana Pfifer (Bianca Cuculici), a therapist conducting sessions within the confines of her bedroom. In one such session, she engages with a self-absorbed client, Macri (Otilia Panaite). Despite the unfolding dialogue, Oana's attention meanders, further exacerbated as her brother Mihai (Laurentiu Bondarencu) intrudes upon the session in a manner most unwarranted, scattering her focus.
As the vignette surpasses the 40-minute mark, a transition unfolds, albeit within the same spatial domain. The scene migrates to Oana's kitchen. Concurrently, Mihai ambles around, assembling accoutrements for baking a cake.
The source of Oana's simmering anxiety surfaces as a friend's labor during the pandemic and unsettling news regarding the Apgar score come to light. Anxiety fills Oana, growing denser with each passing moment, while her brother and her husband (Septimiu Pfifer) — ensconced in a separate room immersed in exam preparations — exude a veil of indifference toward her escalating concern.
In the unfolding narrative of MMXX, the lens shifts towards Mihai in the ensuing scene, capturing the crescendo of chaos encircling his sister. However, as the setting shifts, the spotlight now grazes Septimiu, whose air of indifference persists even as he reclines within the sterile confines of a hospital room during a nocturnal shift, awaiting the next clarion call of emergency alongside his colleague. Septimiu, ensconced in a more passive role, becomes the audience to his colleague's riveting narrative: a dalliance with a Russian mobster's consort, albeit one among many, which consequentially entwined him in the nefarious underbelly.
The final act emerges as the crown jewel of Puiu’s COVID-19 anthology, its narrative pivoting around police inspector Narcis Patranescu, embodied by Romanian heartthrob Dragos Bucur. The preceding pandemonium in Oana’s kitchen now appears merely as a prelude to the dense drama unfolding in this segment, where myriad events transpire in a tightly-knitted narrative tableau.
Puiu's hallmark observational realism converges with intricate plotting, as the lens tirelessly and intensely trails Narcis upon his arrival at an unassuming domicile on the outskirts, designated as a crime scene. In close proximity to this locus of investigation, the hum of funeral preparations permeates the atmosphere, lending a somber resonance to the unfolding drama, each meticulous arrangement adding layers to the narrative's dense tapestry.
Narcis rendezvous with his colleague en route to the delineated crime scene, their steps hastened alongside the fluttering police yellow tape. Amidst this solemn march, Narcis finds himself ensnared in inquiries surrounding a colleague's suicide, a narrative thread that unfurls with a revelation of infidelity with his spouse.
Upon their arrival at a field lying in the shadow of the house, they are met with the sight of apprehended perpetrators, their wrists bound in cuffs, seated in police vehicles. Their inquiry into the identity of the orchestrator elicits a cryptic reply: “Santa Claus.”
As they retrace their steps to the house, a somber discussion concerning the unfortunate suicide and its underpinning circumstances unfolds. The ensuing narrative pivots towards a police procedural, as they initiate the interrogation of a victim entangled in a sex ring. The victim's dark past reveals not only a stint as a pimp but also an unsavory and shocking foray into organ trafficking.
This segment, dense with unyielding intensity, unravels a spectrum of information vastly surpassing that disclosed in the prior segments, which bear the semblance of civil observation without Puiu betraying the initial poetics. The last segment almost appears as the Romanian auteur´s take on True Detective.
Puiu's hallmark formalism resonates throughout MMXX, with meticulous framing initially forging a claustrophobic ambiance in the chamber scenes, which then ascends to dramatic zeniths in the concluding segment. The film's aesthetics exude a somber resonance akin to that of The Death of Mr. Lazarescu and Aurora, yet the cinematographic reins, held by Ivan Grincenco and Silviu Stavilã, steer the visual narrative towards a more kinetic realm.
Oana's therapy session is characterized by a fixed, unwavering gaze, transitioning in the subsequent segment to a panorama of 360° twitches and ticks as tensions near a boiling point. Contrarily, Septimiu's segment sees a deliberate deflation of suspense, the camera lingering with an undramatic patience.
The narrative arc then sways towards Narcis's interrogation amidst a funeral setting; what commences as a comedic tableau gradually morphs into a macabre scenario. The camera navigates through the scene with a meticulously choreographed movement, providing an uninterrupted visual exploration of the unfolding narrative.
MMXX, albeit elusive at an instinctive grasp due to its latent plot, undeniably embodies a zeitgeist significance. It morphs into a capsule of the mundane, bizarre, and brutal, not essentially birthed by the pandemic but expedited by it.
The project's inception mirrors the collaborative essence of Puiu's Three Exercises of Interpretation, endeavoring to seize the undercurrents of an unparalleled global occurrence. The claustrophobic framework emerges as the most palpable link to the pandemic epoch, beyond the overt nods to masking and distancing mandates. Yet, embracing the tag "human comedy" demands an ironic acquiescence, thus positioning MMXX predominantly within the purview of Puiu's aficionados.
Read more about the film at the official San Sebastian International Film Festival site.