“A bitingly funny and outrageously strange subversion of romantic comedy.”

There is a concept often used in the romantic comedy genre known as the “meet-cute”, the moment where two characters encounter each other for the first time, usually in serendipitous (and delightfully awkward) ways, which then kickstarts a budding romance. However, very rarely do we see instances where a meet-cute occurs and not only fails to result in the expected quixotic outcome but actually has negative consequences. This idea is wonderfully explored by Ivana Mladenović in Sorella di Clausura, which follows the daily routine of Stela, a painfully mediocre woman who is rapidly approaching the less-desirable side of middle age and who is desperate to find love. Unfortunately, her prospects prove to be quite bleak – she is infatuated with Boban, a supposedly legendary singer loved across the Balkans (when in reality he is a bland remnant of a bygone era), but who proves to be hopelessly out of touch with reality, while all of her other romantic conquests are not any more charming, ranging from a seedy alcoholic to a book publisher who somehow has both delusions of grandeur and a complete lack of self-confidence. A bitingly funny and outrageously strange subversion of romantic comedy tropes that sees the director taking a cue from Radu Jude (with whom she has worked in the past), the film explores the day-to-day trials and tribulations of a woman seeking meaning in a world in which she begins to believe she may not belong, at least when it comes to allowing her deepest desires to manifest. It’s a bold and irreverent work that continues Mladenović’s growth into an incredible cinematic voice (being her fourth directorial outing), and one that consistently challenges and provokes in ways that we cannot ever predict.

Since the fall of the Communist regime we’ve seen Romanian cinema undergo a series of shifts, becoming increasingly concerned with providing valuable perspectives into society, culture and existence as a whole. We’re currently seeing the development of a new movement that is built on the foundation of the Romanian New Wave, but is also going in its own direction, particularly as other Balkan countries begin to participate in these abstract excursions into social disorder. This is brilliantly embodied in Sorella di Clausura, which presents the viewer with a number of recognisable themes, and then methodically (and without any concern for decency) deconstructs all of them, revealing the inner truths in a manner that is both blisteringly funny and deeply nihilistic. The key theme here is that of obsession – the film begins as a brutal indictment of fan culture, something that has never been more relevant as we live in an era where there is an enormous disconnect between the number of people who earn worldwide recognition through their skills or importance, and those who are just famous for the sake of being in the public eye without any discernible talent. This interweaves with the concept of desire, particularly in terms of exploring how every one of these characters has such visceral, carnal cravings that simply cannot be satisfied, and whether this is physical or metaphorical, these people find themselves becoming victims of their own insatiable yearnings. These ideas combine to create a fascinating investigation into contemporary society, as represented by the protagonist and her relentless search for something she knows she is never likely to achieve.

Despite the rather hefty, complex ideas that inform the film, Sorella di Clausura is a wickedly funny work, and a film that certainly does not take itself all that seriously, a conscious choice that not only proves to be entertaining to the audience, but which has artistic merit in its own right. The core principles that guide this narrative are the overlapping depictions of the banality and madness of everyday life, which Mladenović makes a conscious effort to highlight as not being mutually exclusive – life can be dreadfully dull and pointless, but also incredibly strange and difficult to comprehend. We witness this firsthand through the ordeals that the protagonist of this film has to endure, her daily routine being a deranged oscillation between boredom and standing on the edge of sanity. This is brought to life through the director’s tendency to fixate on both the broad strokes and the smallest, most intricate details, with the funniest and most relatable moments found in the balance between the familiar and the uncanny. It employs a vaguely stream-of-consciousness approach, presenting the story as a series of episodic moments as the main character attempts to make sense of a world she simply cannot understand, despite the fact that everything she is experiencing is not only common, but easily surmountable by anyone who has even the vaguest knowledge of how to face everyday obstacles. All of this forms the foundation of a tremendously entertaining and endlessly demented dark comedy, which is both revealing and outrageously effective when it comes to the bold social and cultural critiques that it so gleefully offers.

The development of this film involves a lot of work being done to make the protagonist stand out, since the story centres around the extent to which Stela endeavours to take on many different identities, ranging from world-renowned writer and musical devotee to international diplomat, but ironically fails at the fundamental task of simply being a functioning member of society, which is where the film draws some of its most hilarious and irreverent ideas. Much of the credit needs to go to Katia Pascariu, whose performance is absolutely stellar and anchors the entire production in a manner that is nothing short of genuinely enthralling. The term “brave” has become so overused in describing actors’ work that it has lost a lot of meaning, but unquestionably what she is doing with this character is the very definition of fearless, baring her body and soul in a truly astounding way. It feels like a natural progression for her after the splendid work she did in Jude’s Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn a number of years ago, insofar as she is playing another ordinary woman placed in a position where she is almost adversarial to the status quo, going against the grain of what is considered decent and where every decision she makes seems to plunge her even deeper into a state of existential panic, something that is both shocking and outrageously funny. What is very important about this performance, as well as the film as a whole, is that it may put Stela through some challenging ordeals, but it never aims for the low-hanging fruit in terms of turning her into a victim of merciless mockery. Instead, it approaches her with a cautious sense of compassion, never afraid to make many jokes at her expense, but still maintaining a slightly more endearing approach to exploring her as a protagonist, which fits in wonderfully with the overall timbre of the film.

There is a moment in Sorella di Clausura where the protagonist (in disguise as a German diplomat as part of a ruse to win back her most recent lover, which immediately makes clear the extent to which this film is willing to push boundaries) refers to the “picturesque chaos of the Balkans”, which is a fantastic description of not only what this film is aiming to convey with this specific story, but also the deeper themes that we can associate with a cinema movement that is all about highlighting the absurdity in everyday life. Whether focusing on a Kafkaesque depiction of the bureaucracy or putting the protagonist through a series of heartbreaks in which she realises that she may not be able to achieve the greatness she craves, the film is a fascinating character study filled with vignettes in which we see Stela undergoing some truly peculiar misadventures. Each one is intended to help her progress both professionally and personally, but somehow inadvertently pushes her back, which becomes the source of some of the most bitingly funny moments of the year to date. Yet, beneath the chaos, there is something much more compelling: a firm, fascinating overview of not only the personal dynamics between the unique characters, but also a bold depiction of social order and how it can often spiral out of control under certain conditions. There isn’t too much allegory (although it’s always possible to glean some deeper meaning from stories based in countries with notable geopolitical histories), allowing us to truly engage with this film and its deeper themes, which are exceptionally well-defined in a film that starts as a broadly satirical subversion of romantic comedies, and flourishes into something even more audacious as it becomes progressively more deranged.