Miracle

Miracol

VERDICT: Oleg Mutu’s outstanding camerawork and a superb performance by Ioana Bugarin help to paper over the unevenness of Bogdan George Apetri’s film about a novice nun who experiences a horrific trauma and the investigation that ensues.

There are two movies in Miracle, Bogdan George Apetri’s uneven, beautifully shot drama divided between a young religious novice’s ordeal when seeking an abortion and the police investigation that follows her brutal rape. The first part, characterized by an admirable discretion and an exceptional central performance, uses an elusive premise to excellent effect, but the second half is far more familiar, even with an unexpected finale. Apetri’s two previous features, Unidentified and Outbound, toyed with revealing motivation to rewarding effect, yet Miracle, at least the latter part, has few surprises until the very end and even then the impact is less than miraculous. The film’s accessibility combined with the director’s earlier festival successes pretty much guarantees his latest will play the circuit.

The plot description will sound like a grab-bag of Romanian cinema narratives, not limited to abortion and frazzled nuns. There’s the over-chatty taxi driver, long-winded conversations more like harangues, the patronizing doctor convinced his privilege entitles him to special treatment, and the stonewalling mother superior, all but the last in just the first ten minutes. It’s a bit unfair though to hold Romanian film to a higher standard of narrational originality than, say French cinema, and to Apetri’s credit he compensates for certain thematic familiarities with a very carefully constructed mise-en-scène largely composed of extremely handsome long shots created by master cinematographer Oleg Mutu. The striking opening, of tearful novice nun Cristina Tofan (Ioana Bugarin) reflected in a water basin, is already enough to make one sit up and take notice.

Golden sunlight rather too carefully illuminates certain parts of the convent room where the agitated Cristina, nineteen, speaks briefly with Sister Mina (Nora Covali), who’s arranged for the novice to be met outside the back gate by her taxi-driver brother Albu (Valeriu Andriu??). He picks up another fare, Dr. Ivan (Valentin Popescu), since they’re both going to the hospital, but before they arrive she nips out of the cab to change into civvies. Of course she’s not told the real reason why she’s going to the hospital; once there she gives Dr. Ivan the slip and heads to the ob/gyn department where Dr. Natalia Marcu (Ana Ularu, star of Outbound) tries to make her comfortable before performing an abortion – thankfully this doc is no Mr. Bebe from 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days.

Afterwards Cristina walks to the police station in search of an inspector; when told he’s not there she tries his apartment but the guy’s wife answers and she runs away. Rather than rendezvousing with Albu, she hires cabbie Batin (Cezar Antal), who looks harmless, playing Romanian oldies on the radio and talking about his daughter, but when Cristina gets out to change back into her habit, Batin tackles and rapes her. If that’s a spoiler, sorry, but it needs to be mentioned because the scene is so deeply disturbing and yet so carefully photographed, the camera keeping a discreet distance as it slowly pans 360 degrees, never entering the copse of trees where she screams as Batin not just rapes but pummels her face and body. There’s something akin to Giovanni Bellini’s chilling yet beautiful painting The Assassination of Saint Peter Martyr about the sequence, which is admirably handled, yet for any woman watching the film who’s been violated, the images and sounds will be traumatizing.

The remainder of the film is a fairly standard police procedural with Inspector Marius Preda (Emanuel Pârvu) determined to find who did this dreadful deed, and though there’s a major twist at the end, the build-up is too stretched out and strangely unremarkable, especially in comparison to the potent scenes beforehand. Part of the reason is that Bugarin’s riveting performance, vulnerable and bird-like in her nervous movements and yet transmitting an undercurrent of kindness, is such a major element of the film’s success that when she’s out of the picture it feels like the fresh air’s gone out as well. Cristina and Marius’ characters first appeared in Unidentified, in minor roles, but that barely gave a hint of what Bugarin can do.

A scene in the convent when Preda interviews the nuns seems to be deliberately filmed like a stage play – a miracle play perhaps – which underlines the sense of the convent being a place apart. Mutu’s elegantly lithe camera glides around Cristina as if it too is judging her and emphasizing how exposed she is, concurrently increasing our sympathy for her deep discomfort (this is before the rape scene) and elsewhere providing a deliberately deceptive sense of measured calm. Miracle boasts exceptional sound design, capturing wind and bird calls in the woods of northeastern Romania in ways that add enormously to the atmosphere. Classic Romanian pop songs by singers like Gic? Petrescu and M?lina Olinescu offer a deceptive sense of mundanity.

 

Director: Bogdan George Apetri
Screenplay: Bogdan George Apetri
Cast: Ioana Bugarin, Emanuel Pârvu, Cezar Antal, Ovidiu Cri?an, Valeriu Andriu??, Valentin Popescu, Marian Râlea, Nora Covali, Natalia C?lin, C?t?lina Moga, Ana Ularu, Olimpia M?lai, Vasile Muraru, Mircea Postelnicu, Dan Grigora?, Bogdan Farca?, Bogdan Tascu.
Producers: Bogdan George Apetri, Oana Iancu
Co-producers: Aija B?rzi?a, Viktor Schwarcz
Executive producer: Minodora ?erban
Cinematography: Oleg Mutu
Production design: Mihaela Poenaru
Costume design: Liene Dobr?ja
Editing: Bogdan George Apetri
Sound: M?rti?š Rozent?ls
Production companies: The East Company Productions (Romania), Cineart TV Prague (Czech Republic), Tasse Film (Latvia)
World sales: Memento International
Venue: Venice Film Festival (Orizzonti)
In Romanian
118 minutes

Cinandobutton3 Miracle