friedt A Hungarian submission to the 2008 Syracuse International Film and Video Festival, Iszka's Journey (the sz is pronounced like the s in Sam) takes place in Romania. The title character and her family appear to be part of the significant Hungarian minority living amid poverty and prejudice in Romania. Under Ceausescu's rule, the plight of this group was such that many sought refuge across the border in Hungary, a rare instance of people escaping to a Communist country! Iszka's family members speak Hungarian with each other, and the personnel at the orphanage where Iszka finds temporary haven also manage to communicate in that language, but everyone else speaks Romanian or is bilingual.This gritty, naturalistic film offers brief moments of calm amidst seas of cold, suffering and exploitation. Fourteen-year old Iszka, bundled in odds and ends, scavenges for scrap metal, but is cheated by the buyer and robbed of the earnings by drunken parents. Accompanied by an ill younger sister, the teen runs away to an orphanage where we first realize that the urchin is actually a female. Our sympathies are all with her as she tries to get well and form friendships at the institute, prepared to accept a day of food and warmth as small triumphs. She returns when her mother comes to claim her, but having formed a friendship with a boy, she leaves again, saying goodbye to her ill sister. It appears that her journey with the boy into the green countryside and springtime is about to begin, but the story takes an abrupt turn when she hitches a ride with two men to the train station to join her travel partner. Though they treat her gently, they bundle her aboard a derelict looking ship.This sudden change in the story suggests that the plot is driven by the underlying "real" events that is the basis for the film rather than by fiction. In fact, the film has a documentary feel, with its minimal dialogue, extreme close-ups, and episodic movement. Iszka, somehow still naïve and cheerful, finds herself aboard ship, in the company of other young women clearly marked for prostitution in foreign lands. On this ship of fools, the young women are jammed uncomfortably in the hold, smoking and telling each other their fantasies of finding work in other lands. But their knowing looks and sexual jokes suggest they are clearly aware of their upcoming roles. Iszka wanders about the ship and sees enough to open her eyes wide to her situation. The ship sails on, but Iszka's freckled, nosy face and jutting little chin reveal enough about her character and determination to make us believe that if anyone can return from this journey, she can.

Max_cinefilo89 Since the Eighties, there have been countless variations on the documentary "genre": from the mockumentary (This is Spinal Tap), to Michael Moore's body of work, various techniques have been employed to tell true or less true stories, generally to powerful effect. One of the most interesting exercises of recent years is the "docu-drama", i.e. a picture where archive material is blended with "traditional" scenes that recreate certain sections of the event that's being covered. Iska's Journey takes that idea one step further: even though certain aspects of the plot are fictional, it is hard to tell what is fake and what is real.Actually, talking about a plot, at least in conventional terms, is rather incorrect, as the script was actually a very lose thing which could be adapted to the protagonist's situation: the director met Maria Varga and decided to ditch his planned Oliver Twist movie (perhaps he remembered Polanski's version had been released only two years earlier, too), favoring a daring exercise in style that would have him follow Varga in her home environment and add certain made-up elements to what is essentially a true story.Iska (Varga) is a twelve-year old girl who lives in a Hungarian village with her ill sister (played by Varga's real-life sibling) and abusive parents. After one beating too many she runs away, although, it is revealed, that is something she does on a regular basis. In fact, when her mother comes to take her home from an orphanage, she complies with the same enthusiasm she showed when answering "Not every day." to the question: "Do your parents hit you?".The only explanation to this bizarre behavior is perhaps the fact that it could be her own way to deal with the negative environment (both social and geographic) she was brought up in, or at least it appears so since the film's producers were willing to adopt Maria and her sister once the shoot was completed and were turned down not by the parents, but by the girls themselves. This unconventional attitude, which is clearly not faked, sets Iska apart from any other child character that's ever appeared in a movie and provides the picture's biggest point of interest, her almost unnatural (given the premise) vitality injecting every scene with energy and charm.That can't completely cover the lack of a proper narrative, though: apart from Iska, none of the characters are granted more than one minute of attention, and key scenes are treated with a lightness that borders on superficiality. All of this is atoned for, however, in the last fifteen minutes, which deliver the most shocking revelation of all: the cynical, but fictional ending turns out to be a lot scarier than the based-on-fact build-up. It won't be to everyone's taste, but it is a bold experiment that deserves to be seen.