April 13, 2026

It seems like, no matter where anyone goes in the world these days, there are bound to be long-simmering disagreements of different kinds that stubbornly defy resolution. The causes vary, too, from disproportionate economics to ethnic prejudice to social inequality to political squabbling to religious feuds, recurring dust-ups that transpire either alone or in combination with one another. And these conditions, in turn, generally evoke an array o… read the rest.

It seems like, no matter where anyone goes in the world these days, there are bound to be long-simmering disagreements of different kinds that stubbornly defy resolution. The causes vary, too, from disproportionate economics to ethnic prejudice to social inequality to political squabbling to religious feuds, recurring dust-ups that transpire either alone or in combination with one another. And these conditions, in turn, generally evoke an array of responses, with some fueled by violence and spiteful name calling, others characterized by despondency and despair, and others still driven by well-meaning compassion that, regrettably, often faces an uphill battle to gain traction. But is this incessant discord any way to live? And is the routine neurotic handwringing it causes something to be tolerated? Those are among the questions posed in this latest offering from writer-director Radu Jude, a quirky but introspective look at life in Cluj, Romania, the country’s second largest city, located in the heart of the legendary province of Transylvania. This long-disputed territory sits in an area where the nation’s ethnic Hungarian and Romanian populations overlap, constituencies that have historically clashed with one another, with many everyday residents woefully caught in the crossfire as they try to figure out why life plays out as it does, a condition that many of us can no doubt relate to no matter where we may live. This conundrum plays out here through the experiences of Orsolya (Eszter Tompa), a former law professor-turned-court bailiff responsible for serving legal orders, such as eviction notices to squatters living in the city’s many older buildings, most of which are being rapidly snapped by developers looking to construct new housing and luxury hotels like the Kontinental. Orsolya struggles earnestly to be helpful and understanding to those down on their luck. But, when legally sanctioned leniency runs out, she’s compelled to enforce the law, as happens in the case of Ion (Gabriel Spahiu), an aging former athlete who’s fallen prey to the ravages of alcoholism, gambling addiction and homelessness. However, when hopelessness prompts Ion to commit suicide, Orsolya is wracked with guilt. She feels responsible for his death, even though she was simply abiding by the law. The event launches her into a fit of soul-searching, sending her on a quest for absolution and meaning that leads to a series of conversations with anyone who will listen, including a friend (Oana Mardare), an Orthodox priest (Serban Pavlu), a former student from her teaching days (Adonia Tanta) and her curmudgeonly prejudiced mother (Annámaria Biluska), among others. Admittedly, the narrative can become rather circular at times as she repeatedly recounts the story of Ion’s demise, but the wide-ranging insights that emerge during the dialogues with her confidantes present different and unique spins on her circumstances and life at large in contemporary Romania, often punctuated with humor that’s dark, plainspoken and “earthy.” While “Kontinental” is arguably the filmmaker’s most “conventional” entry in his cinematic repertoire, the picture nevertheless skillfully incorporates its share of his signature off-the-wall situational humor, too – crazy cinematic segments that make one wonder how in blazes he came up with these ideas in the first place. Not everything in this release works, of course, but there are certainly more than a few moments of utterly inspired brilliance that successfully keep viewers curiously captivated, sequences reminiscent of scenes from some of the director’s other earlier absurdist offerings like “Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn” (2021) and “Do Not Expect Too Much From the End of the World” (2023). Jude’s films are definitely an acquired taste, to say the least, but they’re rarely dull, and, this time out, he serves up a lot to think about on the side as well.

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