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THESSALONIQUE 2024

Critique : Luna Park

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- Florenc Papas propose une version fascinante du genre récit d'apprentissage, à travers l'histoire des épreuves vécues par une mère et son fils pendant l'insurrection albanaise de 1997

Critique : Luna Park
Orion Jolldashi et Adriana Matoshi dans Luna Park

Cet article est disponible en anglais.

In his sophomore feature, the coming-of-age drama Luna Park [+lire aussi :
bande-annonce
fiche film
]
, Albanian filmmaker Florenc Papas manages to disrupt many of the clichés associated with the genre. First, he decides to explore a surreal – yet unknown – chapter in European history that has not been thoroughly explored in film; second, he leaves little room for the romantic side of things, as the young main character is forced to grow up and act responsibly; and third, there’s very little sugar-coating, as everything stays grounded in the harsh reality of this tale.

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The picture, penned by the helmer himself together with Glykeria Patramani and world-premiered in the Survey Expanded: Un-Family-ar strand of this year’s Thessaloniki International Film Festival, is set amidst Albania’s civil unrest in 1997. In detail, the plot follows Mira (played by Adriana Matoshi) and her son Toni (Orion Jolldashi) as they struggle to survive. Mira, a single mother in Elbasan, invests in risky projects and has a brief affair with Berti (Nik Xhelilaj), a wealthy figure running an investment scheme. As the country plunges into anarchy owing to collapsed pyramid schemes, Mira and Toni flee, facing danger at the border.

All in all, Jolldashi and Matoshi deliver solid portrayals of their respective parts. In particular, Jolldashi manages to convey both the strength and the fragility of a fatherless teenage boy who is struggling to find someone to trust but still retains enough hope to believe in a better life, or at least a way out of the misery he is so accustomed to. Meanwhile, Matoshi imbues her role with a kind of “self-aware despair”, meaning that she acts ingenuously but knows that her choices may lead her somewhere bad; however, she has no other options left.

On the other hand, Berti's character is more stylised – a commendable writing choice that helps keep the viewers focused on Toni and his mother. Luna Park is not about a David-and-Goliath duel, as here, David has lost even before starting his fight. Rather, this story is about collecting the remnants of what’s left and looking ahead before being sucked into a vortex of despair.

Technically speaking, the most striking qualities are the picture’s production design (courtesy of Durim Neziri) and cinematography (lensed by Greek DoP Simos Sarketzis). Together, they craft a gloomy atmosphere and a compelling portrait of late-1990s Albania, a place where little is left and people will fight for it to the very end. Finally, Matej Merlic's score is a nice touch, chiming in at the right moments and never over-dramatising the events depicted on screen.

Luna Park was produced by Albania’s On Film Production, together with Italy’s Lupin Film, Greece’s Atalante Productions, Croatia’s Studio Corvus and Kosovo’s Buka Production.

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(Traduit de l'anglais)

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