Aurora is another distressing movie by Romanian director Cristi Puiu. Released in 2008, it’s a violent drama centring on a series of intricately-built scenes. The protagonist is a man named Viorel, played by Puiu himself. The strangely tranquil atmosphere we’re introduced to in the opening scenes is soon overturned, like the calm before the storm. As the movie unfolds, it slowly accrues details, and we are left to piece together the different clues. We get the feeling that we enter a labyrinth of information, a sensation heightened by Puiu’s technique: a big chunk of the movie is filmed through a series of doors and frames.
Viorel is a divorcee and the father of two young girls. He has a married girlfriend, Gina, and he works in a metallurgist factory, leading an apparently mundane life as he tries to come to grips with why his wife divorced him. We follow him into his factory, where he tries to get a loan back from one of his co-workers. On the streets of Bucharest, Viorel meets a Muslim family that gets his attention, though we never know why. Is he prejudiced against Muslims? Or do his values and standards relate to theirs? We can only make guesses. We also follow him into the cluttered apartment he’s renovating, into the gun store where he buys a gun, and, finally, into the place where all hell breaks loose: his ex-wife’s parents’ house. Without explanation or warning, he shoots down his former in-laws. After this heinous crime, he proceeds to murder his ex-wife’s current lover and the woman accompanying him on that fateful day.
"In our quest for the one and only answer, we realise that there is none. Our own guesses and beliefs are the answer. It is truly a magnificent way of making the viewer into a co-storyteller."
Is this a passion crime? Did he kill him out of jealously? There is not one single thing that is certain or straightforward, which results in suspense that is both exhilarating and engaging. It is one of the gripping aspects of Puiu’s movie: he does not provide us with clear reasons for his character’s behaviour. The murder case we are presented with provides no insights into the psychology of the criminal. What is it that triggered this chain of events? What made him kill four people we know nothing about? What made him flip over? It is as if we were on a drip, slowly being fed information on Viorel. Even the language of the movie – standard Romanian with very few expletives and colloquialisms – seems to be as hermetic and elusive as Viorel and his actions. Although the ending is none the more illuminating, it still provides us with a vague explanation. Viorel is arrested, and while in custody, he pleads to us, “Sa-l intelegem” (To understand him). His confession hints at a possible psychological drama. He is a man who has reached the end of his tether, nothing more and nothing less. In our quest for the one and only answer, we realise that there is none. Our own guesses and beliefs are the answer. It is truly a magnificent way of making the viewer into a co-storyteller.
