Having premiered at Astra film fest, O familie aproape perfectă/ An Almost Perfect Family is Tudor’s Platon’s second feature documentary. Just like in his lovable debut Casa cu păpuși/ House of Dolls, following his grandmother and her group of friends on their annual vacation together, Platon chooses his own family as the subject.

To the delight of her fans (and I am sure there are many), the hilarious grandmother, Cica, has a cameo in the present doc. This time, however, it is about her daughter’s perception of her: she recalls a distant, cool parent who managed to say “I love you” exactly once. And this describes the core of the film: How do different generations express feelings, how do they know themselves? We are witnessing Tudor's parents having grown apart while he meets his partner, Carla (Carla Fotea, the film’s producer), and starts a family. There are not many explanations, the film often jumps from one period to another, but it is pretty clear what is happening and how the younger generation tries to understand and avoid their parents’ mistakes in their own relationships.

Tudor and Carla are indeed much more adept at communicating and reflecting on patterns while the parents have massive difficulties. At some point they seem to reach a wall and keep repeating how different the times were when they grew up. What a punch this carries for anyone recognizing their own family patterns. As the father says in one vulnerable moment: “Somehow, you have to forgive us, our generation. We did what we could.” The film is wise enough to understand that there is no use in confronting one’s parents beyond a point. It gently recognizes each generation carrying their emotional load and doing their best, even clumsily. This should also hit a nerve in today’s context, when therapy and discussion of intergenerational trauma have become common.

An Almost Perfect Family is honest, calm, and despite its focus on dialogue, a quiet, contemplative film in many ways. There is much to read beyond the words. But it can also feel too personal, there are times when I felt like intruding upon very intimate moments, like Carla’s breakdown in what I assume is post-partum depression. It does have several stand-out moments, like the walk Tudor takes with his mother. In the tradition of parents being very blunt (they would probably just call it ‘being honest’), she makes assumptions about what is lacking in Tudor’s relationship with Carla. It is a tense and open exchange between a parent and a child but also between two generations and their tools for reflection and discussion. A marriage proposal is also incredibly sweet and moving, although it also comes very close to being too much, as if, again, we are witnessing something we should not.  

I am certain Platon is aware of the feelings of intrusion or voyeurism his approach may cause, and all the moral ramifications, for both protagonists and audience. In the final scene, Tudor and Carla’s son is maybe three or four and, while playing, he keeps telling his father to turn off the camera pointed at him. It is a cute, amusing moment, but I read it as a clear and clever allusion to communication, boundaries, and exposure. This must be the last scene for a reason, a poignant way to end a film about observing and being observed.

Like the thought-out structure that seems open, the images are deceptively simple, but Tudor Platon is also an experienced director of photography, having worked with very diverse material (most recently Arsenie. An Amazing Afterlife and The New Year That Never Came). The camera is focused and steady even when the topics are intense. The tension of who is watching whom and who appears more exposed changes constantly. It is often the filmmaker putting himself in front of the camera while there is also a scene in which the mother uses her phone to record herself.

An Almost Perfect Family will certainly be very familiar for many. Keep an eye on its release date. Until then you can also catch in Bucharest this week during Les Films de Cannes à Bucarest. 

What you can also catch in theatres now is another film on family, albeit very different in form and approach. Trei kilometri până la capătul lumii/ Three Kilometres to the End of the World premiered a few weeks ago and has had a rather quiet run so far, at least compared to other recent pics, which I find surprising. Not because of its prize-winning but because it is a drama worth all attention, and one of the best crafted films of the year. Set in a village of the Danube Delta where a local teenager is brutally beaten, it follows his father’s frantic attempt to catch the culprits. When it turns out it was a homophobic attack, his frenzy turns into a race to keep his son’s sexuality hidden and (in a particularly disturbing episode) exorcise it. His wife is even more helpless and much more religious. At this point, you could easily guess where the local priest stands. The boy’s only ally is his one friend, and (maybe) a social worker.

Pârvu’s film is fantastically tense, playing out across a few days, and turning the screw slowly but steadily until you can hardy take it. The most heart-racing episode is the final arrival of the social worker who understand something’s wrong and is hard to intimidate out of her duty. The fact that she is a woman trying to do her job and keep the men covering everything up at bay is a particularly clever touch and a blistering critique of Romanian institutions and the patriarchal way of ‘taking care of stuff’.  

It is also a beautifully shot film, often in still, panoramic shots. It marches towards its climax at a steady pace and is not afraid of ellipses. It is Emanuel Pârvu’s most accomplished film, an assured, lean thriller with no gram of fat, no distractions or stalling parts. While they do not ruin the overall effect, there are some puzzling choices though: Bogdan Dumitrache is cast again as a father in agony and despite his committed performance I have to say he looked like a city guy dressed up as a peasant, and the same for Laura Vasiliu playing his wife. The main character is almost absent except for enduring abuse, but then again, that is probably on purpose, he is the canvas for all the others. The supporting cast is much more nuanced, especially Valeriu Andriuță as the shrewd police officer. He is fantastic in everything (most famously in Cristian Mungiu’s unforgettable Beyond the Hills). Adrian Titieni, ubiquitous in Romanian productions, is also very believable as the local priest. Some parts of the film defy the general psychological credibility but kudos to the writers for being generally sympathetic to their characters and using more shades than black and white. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. But kudos most of all for making a gay-themed drama that does not exploit its theme in any way and pleads for reason over ignorance and fear.

By Ioana Moldovan, columnist, ioana.moldovan@romania-insider.com

(Photo info & source: still from An Almost Perfect Family, courtesy of microFILM)