Director Cristian Mungiu has established a reputation for crafting intellectually rigorous films that examine social issues transcending borders. His previous works, including the depiction of an illegal abortion in “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days” and the exploration of xenophobia in “R.M.N.,” have challenged audiences to reconsider complex human impulses. While his body of work is often moving, it can occasionally verge on the didactic. His latest film, “Fjord,” which secured the Palme d’Or at Cannes this year, continues this tradition, presenting a narrative that tests credibility but is rescued by powerful performances from Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, and two young newcomers.
Set in Norway, the film follows Mihai Gheorghiu, a Romanian man played by Stan, and his Norwegian wife, Lisbet, portrayed by Reinsve. The couple has relocated to be near Lisbet’s parents while raising their five children within a devout religious household characterized by strict discipline but evident affection. The family’s stability is shattered when a school official notices a bruise on the shoulder of Elia, the eldest daughter, played by Vanessa Ceban. Acting on this observation, authorities swiftly remove the children, including a breastfeeding infant, and place them in foster care before the parents fully comprehend the unfolding crisis.
The narrative chronicles the parents’ arduous efforts to reunite their family, navigating a labyrinth of bureaucratic obstacles and unpredictable legal maneuvers. While the premise might appear exaggerated to viewers unfamiliar with the Norwegian judicial system, Mungiu’s script is rooted in a verified real-life case. The film also echoes recent events in the United States, such as the separation of Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg’s children from their father during a Child Protective Services interview based on a false tip, illustrating the fragility of systems designed to protect minors.
Stan and Reinsve deliver emotionally resonant performances that ground the film’s dramatic intensity. Reinsve adopts an unglamorous appearance as Lisbet, conveying profound grief and suppressed anger through subtle facial expressions. Stan provides a nuanced portrayal of Mihai, depicting a father who is both deeply loving and prone to temper, ensuring the character remains morally ambiguous and difficult to pigeonhole.
Amidst the parental struggle, the most emotionally impactful aspect of “Fjord” emerges from the developing bond between Elia and Noora, the daughter of a neighboring couple played by Henrikke Lund-Olsen. The two teenagers navigate a new friendship that begins to hint at romantic feelings, offering a poignant counterpoint to the adult drama. Ultimately, this subplot steals the film’s emotional core, suggesting that the younger characters provide the story’s most vital truths, possibly even surpassing the intentions of the filmmaker himself.
Does Mungiu ever let his characters have a happy moment? The relentless tension left me exhausted but impressed.
The teenage subplot is surprisingly tender. It really steals the show from the adults’ bureaucratic nightmare.
As a Norwegian, I found the depiction of our child protection system quite inaccurate. It feels like sensationalism.
I didn’t realize this was based on a real case. How terrifying that bureaucracy can destroy families so easily.
Stan and Reinsve are magnificent here. Their grief feels unbearable, yet authentic. A haunting experience.