PLOT: A Romanian family who’ve relocated to Norway find themselves torn apart when the parents are accused of child abuse.
REVIEW: What constitutes child abuse? That’s one of the difficult questions at the heart of director Cristian Mungiu’s deeply challenging Fjord. While most of us probably believe we’d recognize it if we saw it, what about the other side of the coin? At what point is it not abuse but simply discipline, and who makes that determination? In Fjord, that question leads to catastrophe for a Romanian family trying to make a new life in Norway.
Sebastian Stan’s Mihai and his half-Norwegian wife, Lisbet (Renate Reinsve), are strict and religious, but are not shown to be violent, although they do admit to occasionally giving their kids a “slap on the butt,” as Mihai puts it, in order to maintain discipline in their family of seven. But this alone leads to a snowball effect that puts the conservative religious family in the crosshairs of the ultra-progressive Norwegian system, with the kids’ teachers suspecting the parents of abuse and having them removed from the household, leading to both a civil and criminal case that keeps the family separated for months.
Mungiu’s film isn’t easy in that a progressive audience — which is no doubt a sizeable chunk of potential viewers — may not find the Gheorghiu family at the film’s heart easy to root for. Mihai and Lisbet are strict and devout, making their kids study the Bible, teaching them that homosexuality is a sin, and not allowing them access to mobile phones, the internet, or even secular music. But they’re also shown to be loving and not especially violent, with it becoming clear as the film goes on that their religious beliefs are in fact probably the thing that led to them being investigated and eventually railroaded by an ultra-progressive system that, as much as it preaches tolerance, expects them to fully assimilate. Even if you don’t agree with what they are teaching their kids, the question becomes: do they have the right to teach beliefs that are part of their culture, or should they be expected to fully assimilate even after only just arriving in this new country?
All this makes Fjord a compelling yarn that will likely spark a lot of debate, as even the most progressive audience members — who may find the Gheorghius’ beliefs offensive — will likely sympathize with them as the government’s methods become so heavy-handed they literally take away Lisbet’s still-nursing baby from her care. Sebastian Stan, who gives a trilingual performance here, is terrific as Mihai. His beliefs may seem stern and archaic, but he’s not presented as a tyrant, with the vibe being that he’s not an unreasonable person and that, were he actually given a chance, he might assimilate or at least loosen up in his own time. Yet he’s constantly antagonized, with him not even allowed to show frustration lest it be used against him. My only beef is that, in an effort to deglamorize Stan, they shave his hairline down to make him look like he’s balding, but the edges are too sharp to make it look convincing (I say this as a proudly bald man – no receeding hairline is ever so clearly delineated), and it feels overly affected. His performance is good enough that it didn’t need this gimmick. Reinsve is similarly good as the Norwegian Lisbet, who remains steadfast in her beliefs.
Mungiu deserves a lot of credit for how well the drama is executed, with him never giving you a clear-cut side to root for. Your sympathies will be with the Gheorghius, but they are also shown to be just as guilty of pushing their own beliefs on people as their progressive neighbours, with both sides filled with people who, in their good intentions, cannot fathom for a second that they may be biased.
The supporting cast is similarly strong, with Lisa Carlehed as their neighbour, an attorney whose own husband, Mats (Markus Tønseth), helped get the ball rolling against them but ends up becoming their most steadfast ally. The child performances are superb, with the most affecting subplot involving their hellion neighbour, Noora (Heinrikke Lund-Olsen), a self-destructive teen who unexpectedly finds herself calmed by the family’s eldest daughter, Elia (Vanessa Ceban), who becomes a positive influence. She even strikes up a rapport with Mihai, who still looks at her a little askew, with the subtext being that Elia and Noora might like each other as more than friends, even if it’s never really spelled out.
It’s gorgeously shot on location in Norway, with the widescreen lensing capturing the winter avalanches that happen with alarming regularity but are just a fact of life for the residents. The film also notably has no musical score, with only a bit of source music used to enhance the mood at times. Neon has this one for domestic distribution, and given the wildly positive reception here at Cannes, it seems like a frontrunner for a Best International Feature Oscar nomination, with Stan potentially a dark horse Oscar contender for his multilingual performance.
The comment section exists to allow readers to discuss the article constructively and respectfully, focused on the topic at hand.
What’s Not Allowed