One thing I believe director Ivana Mladenovic understands but failed to implement is that movies like this one need to have a grander purpose than just presenting a leftist agenda. It's all about progress. A change has to happen. Unfortunately, about halfway in, I realized that might not be true in this case, and by the end I got my confirmation.
"Soldatii: Poveste din Ferentari" is about a culture understood only by Eastern Europeans. Our gypsy society who thrives on Bohemia is an oasis of artistic potential, archaic values, mythology, hopelessness and--why not--hope. But here, Mladenovic fails to hit the mark every single time. It all starts with Adi (Adrian Schiop). A PHd student who moves to a place in Ferentari, Bucharest's own Compton, after he was dumped by his girlfriend. Here, he attempts to study the local gypsy population's musical invention: "manele". First, he goes to local manele mogul and producer Dan Bursuc (he is playing himself). Adi is a bit insecure and deft, and Bursuc immediately sees through him. He claims: "why didn't you come in a more fashionable manner so that you will earn my respect". This scene is the deepest Mladenovic ever got to true insight, showcasing Bursuc's cultural philosophy of aesthetic presentation, something that gypsies value not only as status, but also as worthiness, care and discipline.
As the movie continues, Adi befriends and eventually falls in love with a gypsy at a local bar. Alberto (Vasile Pavel) is a scene-stealer everytime he shows up. Pavel is, in fact, not a trained actor but a bodyguard of actual gypsy origins and he perfectly flows in the role of a gypsy underdog with a checkered past. He claimed in an interview: "I did some improvisations... some things would just come out... I did 90% of what the director asked". His performance truly outshines Schiop's which was a bit to stiff and unremarkable. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion.
The central controversy of this move came from its love interests. I don't know if Mladenovic crumbled under pressure or if the actors were simply not apt enough, but the relationship between the two felt stale. And it had potential. Adi was an insecure, inapt man and Alberto spent 14 years in prison where he engaged in various sexual acts of which he confides to his lover. Both are emotionally fragile, yet there is no progress or chemistry between the two. Sometimes I wonder if Mladenovic wanted nothing more than to stir controversy. I hope not, because in that case, this is worse than I initially thought. It would mean this movie's lack of a centralized idea, something to wrap this whole thing up would be intentional.
It didn't took long before I realized just what is the point of all this? Not soon enough, a friend of mine I was watching the movie with, noticed the same thing. A few silent, boring minutes later, he began spewing potential ideas. "Perhaps its about how to appreciate the things you have?" Sure, if you think about the opportunity Adi gave to Alberto and he blew it. "Or perhaps about the inability to change?" Again, sure, if you look how, by the end, Alberto was still unchanged by his experience. These are all true, but they do not encompass the whole movie. At best, they are an exercise in observation, and at worst they are wishful thinking in an all too bleak and stale picture.
At least it was filmed on location and locals were acting to the camera: "Film me!" the children screamed.
"Soldatii: Poveste din Ferentari" is about a culture understood only by Eastern Europeans. Our gypsy society who thrives on Bohemia is an oasis of artistic potential, archaic values, mythology, hopelessness and--why not--hope. But here, Mladenovic fails to hit the mark every single time. It all starts with Adi (Adrian Schiop). A PHd student who moves to a place in Ferentari, Bucharest's own Compton, after he was dumped by his girlfriend. Here, he attempts to study the local gypsy population's musical invention: "manele". First, he goes to local manele mogul and producer Dan Bursuc (he is playing himself). Adi is a bit insecure and deft, and Bursuc immediately sees through him. He claims: "why didn't you come in a more fashionable manner so that you will earn my respect". This scene is the deepest Mladenovic ever got to true insight, showcasing Bursuc's cultural philosophy of aesthetic presentation, something that gypsies value not only as status, but also as worthiness, care and discipline.
As the movie continues, Adi befriends and eventually falls in love with a gypsy at a local bar. Alberto (Vasile Pavel) is a scene-stealer everytime he shows up. Pavel is, in fact, not a trained actor but a bodyguard of actual gypsy origins and he perfectly flows in the role of a gypsy underdog with a checkered past. He claimed in an interview: "I did some improvisations... some things would just come out... I did 90% of what the director asked". His performance truly outshines Schiop's which was a bit to stiff and unremarkable. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion.
The central controversy of this move came from its love interests. I don't know if Mladenovic crumbled under pressure or if the actors were simply not apt enough, but the relationship between the two felt stale. And it had potential. Adi was an insecure, inapt man and Alberto spent 14 years in prison where he engaged in various sexual acts of which he confides to his lover. Both are emotionally fragile, yet there is no progress or chemistry between the two. Sometimes I wonder if Mladenovic wanted nothing more than to stir controversy. I hope not, because in that case, this is worse than I initially thought. It would mean this movie's lack of a centralized idea, something to wrap this whole thing up would be intentional.
It didn't took long before I realized just what is the point of all this? Not soon enough, a friend of mine I was watching the movie with, noticed the same thing. A few silent, boring minutes later, he began spewing potential ideas. "Perhaps its about how to appreciate the things you have?" Sure, if you think about the opportunity Adi gave to Alberto and he blew it. "Or perhaps about the inability to change?" Again, sure, if you look how, by the end, Alberto was still unchanged by his experience. These are all true, but they do not encompass the whole movie. At best, they are an exercise in observation, and at worst they are wishful thinking in an all too bleak and stale picture.
At least it was filmed on location and locals were acting to the camera: "Film me!" the children screamed.