On Body and Soul, a quirky Hungarian comedy/drama/romance, was a
finalist for this year’s best foreign language film Oscar. It’s a picture that moves
along at a relatively slow, contemplative pace, which in this instance counts
as a virtue. I found it was interesting and increasingly absorbing through all
of its almost two hour length. And it’s available for home viewing exclusively
from Netflix (streaming and on dvd).
In a nutshell, the story is about two people who,
unbeknownst to one another have the same repeating dream - not a dream about the other person, but literally
the same dream as the other person –
and what transpires when they discover this. And, it’s about what it’s like
being or feeling as if you are an outsider, different from other people. Perhaps
you experience social ostracism; perhaps you make excuses or justifications for
your otherness; but inside, you still ache, you hurt and feel alone - wanting
to belong if not to the group, at least to someone. Ultimately, On
Body and Soul is about the universal need for connection – and for
intimacy.
How has it been
received? Quite well, both by
critics and the movie-going public. According to review aggregator Rotten
Tomatoes , the movie has a critical approval rating of 91%, summarizing its
appeal thusly: 'Tender performances and a strong sense of style combine
to create an eccentric, dreamy portrait of love and loneliness.' In addition to the Academy Award
nomination, it won the top prize, the
Golden Bear, at the prestigious Berlinale film festival in 2017; and the picture’s
lead actress, Alexandra Borbély,
won the European Film Academy’s award for best actress of the year. IMDb (the
Internet Movie Database) gives On Body and Soul a score of 7.7 out
of 10, based on ratings by nearly 14,000 filmgoers.
So here’s the set-up: Endre is the CFO of a beef factory, which
is to say a slaughterhouse or abattoir, on the outskirts of Budapest,
Hungary. Essentially, he seems to be the
on-site manager of the place. Endre is an older man, near retirement age, with
a placid attitude and a world-weary look that says he’s seen it all. His left
arm is lame, a condition he self-consciously tries to conceal; he mostly keeps
to himself to the extent he can.
But the factory’s quality control lady has taken maternity
leave, and a new young woman, Maria, has taken her place. Maria is not liked by
the other workers. She is stand-offish, doesn’t socialize, and has an odd
manner. Nor is it appreciated that she grades the beef 100% by the book, which
is to say very strictly. At the same time, she is a nice looking blonde, and along
her aloofness this attracts Endre’s interest.
Interspersed with the scenes setting up this situation are
other scenes set in a stunningly beautiful wintry forest. In that forest lives
a magnificent stag deer, not unlike the noble creature Helen Mirren’s Queen
Elizabeth saw (or imagined she saw) in the 2006 picture The Queen. In one of these arboreal scenes the stag meets a doe,
and thereafter the two of them roam through the snowy woods as a pair. This
lovely imagery is mysterious at first, but we come to understand that we are
glimpsing a bit of Endre’s dreams.
One day the police arrive at the workplace, based on reports that some of the plant’s cattle “mating powder” has been stolen. As part of the internal investigation which follows, a psychologist comes in to conduct interviews with all employees who might have had access to the powder. Her interview technique is unusual and also rather amusing, focusing a lot on personal stuff that would certainly be off limits in this country, such as the interviewee’s sexual habits and about about their most recent dream. She is startled to discover, in interviewing Endre and later Maria, that each describes an identical dream about the two deer (he identifying with the stag, and she with the doe). It’s through the disbelieving psychologist that these two first discover that they are sharing the very same dream!
The movie takes off from there, as these two quiet,
diffident, yet very different folks tentatively explore what this phenomenon
might portend; and a quirky love story seems in the offing.
What makes the movie
so good? For one thing, the cinematography is creatively moody and frequently gorgeous. More importantly, though, the
performances of the two leads are exquisite and memorable.
Borbély
in particular, as Maria, is captivating. If you’ve seen the excellent Swedish
TV detective series The Bridge you’d
recognize the kind of character she plays as quite similar to that of Saga, the
brilliant, quirky detective with Aspergers syndrome. [As an aside, that show
was so good, it was copied and made into an American detective series also
called The Bridge, starring Diane
Kruger as a similar type; and copied a second time as a British/French series
called The Tunnel, but I haven’t seen
either of those.] Like Saga, Maria is on the spectrum, extremely competent at
her job, but largely incompetent in social interactions. She also has an almost
superhuman memory. Unlike Saga, she’s quite shy, extremely modest in demeanor
and dress. The combination of these qualities makes her both fascinating and endearing.
Meanwhile, Endre (played by Géza Morcsányi) is a bit eccentric
himself - a very private person, almost reclusive, with the thoughtful,
cautious manner of a guy who is more observer than participant in the social
world. Having long since given up any hopes of being romantically connected to
another person, Endre is bemused by his attraction to and his mysterious
connection with Maria.
In the hands of these two, the odd circumstance of the
shared dream is not just an interesting premise, but the basis for an unusual,
delicate, increasingly absorbing relationship.
Also interesting is the peek this movie gives us into the
workings of a commercial abattoir (something I, personally, have never seen –
nor want to think much about) – and just as interesting, the glimpse we are
afforded of the psycho-social world of the humans who work there – the
matter-of-fact way they go about their grisly business, the physicality of much
of it, and the suggestion that the omnipresence of death, inherent in
production of meat from live animals, winds up being an earthy environment for
widespread flirtation and sexual liaisons.
Borrowing from and highlighting the movie’s premise – that
two strangers could share the same dream – the picture itself is somewhat
dreamy. The interspersed scenes of the stag and doe in their snow-covered
woodland are divine. The inevitable contrast between these wild creatures and
the doomed cattle is pretty striking, a not so subtle subtext to the human
story in the foreground.
Which leads me to a cautionary word: As I’ve suggested, On Body and Soul contains
scenes in the slaughterhouse that may be disturbing to the faint of heart.
While the film kindly avoids depicting the literal death moment of any steer,
we are not spared much else. To be blunt, there are some brutal and bloody
scenes of the so-called meat processing. Although these are thankfully quite
brief, but I nonetheless found them unsettling. I guess it’s good to be
reminded from whence our food derives. But consider yourself warned.
That said, On Body and Soul is a worthwhile,
oddly touching, thoughtfully absorbing motion picture. I recommend it.
1 hour 56
minutes. Not rated.
Grade B+
Available both streaming
and on dvd from Netflix (exclusivel
No comments:
Post a Comment