A group of guests debate a variety of issues while gathered at a 19th
century manor house over Christmas.
Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Cristi Puiu
Starring: Frédéric Schulz-Richard, Ugo Broussot, Diana Sakalauskaité, Marina
Palii
You! Yeah, you! Just shut it, will you? Sit back down, zip it and LISTEN
for a change. When was the last time you actually did that? You know, paid
close attention to what someone else had to say, and paused to consider
what was being shared rather than making a snap response based on your own
prejudices and ingrained principles? Ages ago, I bet. Listening is a lost
art. Listening is dead, man. Performative as it was, professional blowhard
Piers Morgan storming off his own TV show when called out r.e. his
soundbitey remarks concerning the Duchess of Sussex is indicative of our
imperious, partisan culture: where conversation, discussion, understanding
is scorned in favour of who can shout the loudest, who has the hottest
take, who has the microphone. What happened to conversation?
Cristi Puiu’s (writer/director, based on the book by
Vladimir Solovyov) sublime Malmkrog has to go way
back to Transylvania circa 1890 to rediscover this lost art, in his 200+
minute (yes I know, but what else have you got on at the moment?) tribute
to sinuous, phrenic interaction which depicts a gathering of a landowner,
a politician, a countess, a General and his wife who get together in the
eponymous manor house to have a good old chat over dinner. For three hours
and change. Sit back, and listen!
The highbrow bunch talks about exactly what you would wish a group of
fin-de-siècle intellectuals to discuss: religion, the state of the nation,
life and death. The type of topics which modern discourse has ground into
the most superficial takes is here given devoted, extended space; the
audience simply eavesdrops, compelled to listen to the rising interactions
and deepening debates while the hours melt into one another.
It’s Puiu’s commitment which astonishes, the unflinching dedication to his
theme: his challenge to the audience. Although, while the film’s raison
d’etre is talk, there are visual pleasures to savour, too. The heritage
delights of the set dressing and the pristine costumes are given
prominence by Tudor Vladimir Panduru’s understated camera,
typically pulled to wide angles to allow each participant equal status
within whatever Big Idea is being chewed over with the hors d'oeuvres (for
a portion of the film, our vision is obscured by the backs of chairs: a
static signifier which consolidates this film’s imperative to listen).
French, with its polysyllabic, urgent rhythms has the perfect mellifluence
for this type of debate, a language wherein the deadpan poetry of such
lines as ‘Death is as neutral as bad weather’ (oui oui!) thrives. Within
the malmkrog our chatty Cathys are safely ensconced from the bitter
weather outside, and the various conflicts which came to define Romania in
the coming decades. Puiu recognises the irony of his privileged characters
pontificating upon the wars which they likely will never be physically
involved in (or will they?), by assigning a portion of his epic to the
servants who minister to the toffs with immaculate Upstairs, Downstairs
observance.
Ultimately, Puiu suggests, these toffs are all talk, indulging in a
passive observance of events: as one character remonstrates, he would
rather ‘sacrifice himself for two hours’ to listen. And the rest, mate!
Midway through Malmkrog there is a shock burst of violence,
implying ghost story relevance, and the insinuation that the characters
are in fact within some sort of limbo (a hackneyed device, but we’ll allow
it). Are these characters doomed to discuss for all eternity? Now, there’s
a prospect.
Malmkrog is on UK/ROI VOD and in
virtual cinemas from March 26th.
