“A masterful example of how a simple concept can become truly extraordinary when explored by a director who possesses a clear vision.”

Something one notices about Renátó Olasz immediately – whether on screen or in person – is that he is remarkably young, something that belies his ability to carry himself with wisdom and a slight sense of world-weariness, which we’d expect from someone far older and more experienced. Yet, it’s in this youthfulness that we find a singular artist. This much is made quite clear by Stars of Little Importance (Minden csillag), his feature debut as a writer and director, as well as a film where he plays one of the leading roles. The difference between his age and the ideas embedded in this film creates a fascinating contrast that he is all too eager to explore, telling the story of a young man and his sister as they return to his hometown in working-class Hungary on Christmas Eve. They plan to spend the evening at one of the local haunts from their childhood, a bar that has been closed for the holidays. This establishment starts as the site of their reunion with half a dozen of their closest friends, but quickly turns into the stage for a tense, complex character study in which unresolved trauma is directly addressed. Over the course of a single evening, the layers of familiarity gradually erode into something much more bleak and disquieting, becoming the foundation for a film that is as enthralling as it is unsettling, a drama built around authentic emotions and a firm commitment to examining the many fascinating contradictions that define modern life.

There are several points from which we can start a discussion about Stars of Little Importance, a film that contains a multitude of complex ideas, each one rich and layered in its own way. However, the narration that opens and closes the film makes it very clear that the director was primarily seeking to explore the act of homecoming. Filmed in the same small town in which Olasz grew up, the story investigates the often brutal experience of returning to the place where his entire childhood was spent, but which has suddenly lost the qualities that he fondly remembered, the joy extinguished as time has progressed. The process of returning home is usually quite daunting. It’s not surprising to find that many are haunted by memories of the past, since we tend to outgrow not only the places but also the memories that are inextricably tied to them. It’s even more harrowing when reuniting with people who have lingered behind, since the familiarity is quickly replaced by the realisation that everyone matures at a different pace, leading to conflict that is impossible to resolve without unearthing some deeply unfortunate truths about friendships that attempt to make the transition from childhood to adulthood. Olasz demonstrates a keen, astute attention to the smallest details, and while it is quite a simple film in both theory and practice, he lays a strong foundation on which he can build a striking story of friendships that have changed as time has progressed, and the difficulties associated with confronting the ever-changing journey through adulthood.   

Stars of Little Importance is a masterful example of how a simple concept can become truly extraordinary when explored by a director who possesses a clear vision. The entire film takes place over a single night in primarily one location (there are momentary sojourns to surrounding buildings that bookend the film, but the majority is set within the same bar), and is constructed from a series of dialogues interspersed with quieter moments where words are not spoken. Many complex ideas are nonetheless communicated in those moments, primarily through atmosphere, which exists somewhere between realism and dreamlike logic. This is a reflection of the disorienting experience of returning to a place that used to be called home, but where even the most familiar landmarks and buildings in which those formative years were spent have become unrecognisable. In addition to playing one of the central roles, Olasz enlists a cast of seven other actors to play the core characters – and Stars of Little Importance is the very definition of an ensemble effort. Everyone is given equal attention, having the same level of importance to the narrative and essentially being fragments of an entire generation that this film intends to reflect in its own way, communicating some uncomfortable conversations through implication rather than outright stating its intentions; a perfect example of subtlety as an artistic device.

It is not at all surprising that the formidable Béla Tarr attached his name to Stars of Little Importance as an executive producer – in many ways, Olasz is paying tribute to his particular kind of cinema, the slow-paced, quietly devastating dramas that offer harrowing glimpses into the deepest recesses of the human condition, focusing on the banality of everyday life and the hopelessness that comes when realising that home is not always as welcoming a place as we’d imagine. The stunning black-and-white photography captures every intricate detail of this town and its inhabitants. They are framed in such a way that they develop an unconventional beauty, a simplicity that is both familiar and uncanny, depicting a world caught between eras and incapable of developing alongside the people who leave as soon as they are able to find better opportunities elsewhere. Olasz is an immense talent, and both his visual approach and ability to communicate complex ideas in the form of such a simple, evocative drama are absolutely remarkable. Stars of Little Importance is a striking achievement that may be straightforward on the surface, but has a deep sincerity and fervent curiosity towards ordinary subjects, which are here rendered as the basis for a hypnotic character study that leaps into the minds of these ordinary people as they attempt to make sense of both the past and the present, touching on shared experiences and collective trauma that has led them each to this point in their lives.