25/06/2024 - Ana-Maria Comănescu’s coming-of-age drama talks about how we are sometimes obsessed with the finish line and ignore the small steps necessary to get there

Romanian cinema has recently offered a host of films willing to explore newer, more diverse approaches than those made famous by the so-called Romanian New Wave, which started with Cristi Puiu’s The Death of Mr Lăzărescu [+see also:
trailer
film profile]. Besides being relatable stories, these films pay attention to what the audience wants, without becoming the ultra-popular, but unfortunately by no means stimulating, comedies that now dominate the Romanian box-office charts. One of these pictures is Gabi Virginia Şarga and Cătălin Rotaru’s Where Elephants Go [+see also:
film review
interview: Gabi Virginia Şarga and Căt…
film profile], another one being Ana-Maria Comănescu’s first feature, Horia [+see also:
interview: Ana-Maria Comănescu
film profile]. Both movies have recently been shown at the 23rd Transilvania International Film Festival.

Written by the director, Horia follows the titular character, a 17-year-old (first-timer Vladimir Ţeca) living in a small village with his father, a mechanic. When Horia succeeds in passing his graduation exams, his father gives him his old Mobra motorbike (together with some life advice that stresses the generation gap between them), a gift that doesn’t impress the teenager at all. Following a fight with his dad, Horia will run away from home on the Mobra, starting a journey across the country to reunite with the girl he has a crush on. And now is the perfect time for the director to put obstacles in his path, which makes Horia an even rarer beast in Romanian cinema: a road movie and coming-of-age story.

There is something extremely refreshing about having the open road in front of you, especially when the director (aided by DoP Tudor Mircea’s camerawork) seems determined to take advantage of Romania’s most impressive provincial landscapes. There is such potential in that open road, as every turn could come with a surprise. Unfortunately, the clumsy, morose Horia doesn’t care about this, as he is convinced that everything that happens is there to annoy him. A chance encounter with Stela (Angelina Pavel, also a discovery), a 13-year-old who steals his phone while he sleeps under a bridge, gives Horia the chance to ponder the fact that he shouldn’t be so entitled to feel dissatisfaction at everything that comes his way.

By putting a destination in front of him (his crush lives in Cluj-Napoca, in northern Romania, while he starts his journey in the deep south), Comănescu talks about how sometimes we are obsessed with the finish line and ignore (or refuse to enjoy) all of the small steps necessary to get there. Also, the radiant, happy-go-lucky, street-smart Stela is a continuous source of conflict for Horia, who seems to think she’s a pest, oblivious to the fact that she might be the best thing that has ever happened to him, as she teaches him to take life as it comes and seize each and every chance at being happy.

A little too long for its own good, the film suffers somewhat in the credibility department, as Comănescu insists on placing obstacles in her protagonists’ path. Taken separately, these hindrances do their job (well, maybe not the encounter with the exhibitionist garden-gnome makers), but the way they mount up starts to feel forced at some point, like God throwing types of illnesses at a youthful Job. Of course, these obstacles have a purpose, as they push the reluctant Horia towards a much-needed moment of self-discovery that finally makes him endearing.

Horia was produced by Romania’s microFILM, and was co-produced by Klas Film (Bulgaria) and Biberche Productions (Serbia). The newest entity on the Romanian distribution market, August Film, released the film in cinemas in April.