25/03/2025 - The filmmaker offers a behind-the-scenes perspective on his second feature, which explores the precariousness of professional and personal life for thirty-something Romanians

After his feature debut, Poppy Field [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Eugen Jebeleanu
film profile], which was based on real-life events, Romanian-born, Paris-based director Eugen Jebeleanu comes up with a creative adaptation of Lavinia Braniște’s novel Internal Zero, regarded as being among the best works of contemporary Romanian literature. Internal Zero [+see also:
film review
interview: Eugen Jebeleanu
film profile] has premiered in the pan-European Smart 7 programme of the Vilnius International Film Festival, where we had the opportunity to speak to Jebeleanu about his artistic choices and the portrayal of a generation of Romanians approaching mid-life, who have decided to remain in their home country and face the challenges of the local reality.

Cineuropa: How did you come up with the idea to bring Lavinia Braniste’s novel, which is quite popular in Romania, to the big screen?
Eugen Jebeleanu: The initial idea for this adaptation was to do it as a collaboration with Ioana Moraru, the screenwriter for my first film. She and the producer proposed the project, and although I liked the book, I was hesitant, especially as a male director telling a woman’s story. But eventually, I decided to make the film my own, reflecting my interpretation and concepts, which led to the movie's unconventional structure, including three actresses playing the same character. I was also aiming to portray this generation of people in Romania who are in their thirties and are struggling to find the right place for themselves, both in society and in their private lives.

Cristina's character doesn’t want to emigrate, unlike her mother, who lives in Spain. Do you see this as a strength or a weakness, and what does it represent in the context of post-socialist Romania?
Cristina's decision not to emigrate shows her determination to find her place in Romania, despite facing challenges. For me, it represents a resistance to the idea that escape is the only solution, and it reflects a desire to stay and fight for a better future – an admirable trait, especially for someone like me, who did leave.

What about her relationship with men? Are Romanian men truly less likely to commit?
The portrayal of male characters as distant or as escaping responsibility is, unfortunately, a common representation in both fiction and life. I didn’t want to promote this idea, but I think Cristina’s decision to keep the child alone, despite her boyfriend’s absence, empowers her. She proves that she doesn’t need him in order to define her future.

However, from a psychological perspective, Cristina also repeats the destiny of her mother, who is single. These generational patterns persist even as society changes, reflecting the complex interaction between personal desires, societal pressures and the role of tradition. The external influence is evident in the dynamics between the characters in the film, while the theme is universal, and many can relate to the challenge of breaking free from these cycles.

You introduce the viewer to the “laboratory” of your directorial approach, perhaps influenced by your work in theatre. Why do you think this is important for the audience?
The theatrical elements help in creating a distance from the character’s story. I wanted to show the construction of fiction, similar to how Cristina works in construction. It allows for multiple voices and perspectives, especially from the actresses, who create a richer portrayal of the main character and other women in the film. Such an approach also helps my exploration of the intersection of reality and fiction, and the question of who is playing whom.

Additionally, your interpretation is more conceptual than the book – which is rather realistic – and also less humorous. Meanwhile, some characters, like Liliana, for example, are presented as having a softer temper than in the novel. Was this intentional?
I wanted to present Liliana, Cristina’s boss, as both a victim and a perpetrator. In life, we are often both, and I wanted to avoid creating purely positive or negative characters. Liliana has been a victim in her life, and it was important to acknowledge that. Her attitude is partly a consequence of the capitalist system, where society places immense pressure on people to perform and validate their existence. This was part of my exploration of how societal changes, particularly capitalism, impact personal relationships and individual lives.

As for the conceptual nature of the film, it stems from my theatrical background and the search for a form that resonates with Cristina’s own search for stability. I'm not sure if I consciously decided on this, but it might have come from my own sense of humour. With Marius Panduru, the DoP, we wanted to subtly critique how we shot the film. There are certain viewpoints that we wanted to convey through the visuals, although they're not exactly ironic. I tried to bring in some humour through the aesthetic representation, rather than relying on a tragicomic ending. Meanwhile, I wanted to explore vulnerability – being vulnerable as an actor, director and viewer. That was central to the concept: how we could express our own vulnerability before inviting the audience to connect with theirs in relation to the story.