Zsuzsa Czinkóczi, Jan Nowicki and Anna Polony reprise their roles from the previous films and, I’m sorry to say, they look a bit tired of it all; truly outstanding performance by Mari Törőcsik as Vera. In the middle of the movie’s tragic realism, the Felliniesque New Year’s party is an absolute highlight offering a ray of hope that, as we know, dies last.
If the previous films of the Márta Mészáros cycle poke occasional fun at the system, her 1984 semi-autobiographical Diary for My Children is openly critical of the regime. Which is amazing considering that Goulash Communism still had five years to go. Then again, Hungary was relatively liberal by the Eastern Bloc standards. Starring Zsuzsa Czinkóczi as Juli and Jan Nowicki as János and, in flashbacks, Juli’s father.
Unusually for me, I kept worrying that something bad will happen to the protagonists, to say nothing of the dog. But no. Of the three films of Marta Mészarós cycle I’ve seen so far, Just like Home, starring Jan Nowicki as András, Zsuzsa Czinkóczi as Zsuzsa and Anna Karina (Alphaville) as Anna, is the closest thing to comedy. Could it be that the title indeed refers to the director’s own feelings towards her native country at that particular time?
If The Girl (1968) was the first film directed by a woman in Hungary, Adoption became the first ditto to win the Golden Bear in 1975. To put things in perspective: it was not until 2010 that either the Oscar for Best Director or BAFTA Award for Best Direction went to a woman — in this case, the same woman, Kathryn Bigelow.
When I grew up, I was fascinated with Hungary. Not as exotic as Cuba but still, pretty exotic — impenetrable language always helps — and at the same time friendly socialist country from where cool, or at least colourful, things used to trickle into our grey reality. From my childhood, I remember novelty of orange Ikarus buses, the “rare bird” of imported chicken, and books by Corvina publishers that belonged to my mum, the best of which was the oversize Anatomy for the Artists by Jenő Barcsay. From a later period: then-still-cheap and way too sweet Tokaji wine; the 1978 Skorpió album Gyere Velem!, borrowed from (and, sorry to admit it, never returned to) a childhood friend; music books by Editio Musica Budapest, some of which I bought myself. (I still have Gitarakkord Kislexikon by Tibor Csepei on my shelf.) I don’t remember any single Hungarian film from those times though. While at the universtity, I watched István Szabó’s German-language trilogy (Mephisto, Oberst Redl and Hanussen), which I think does not quite count. Now, thanks to the Márta Mészáros retrospective, I can at last get acquainted with real Hungarian cinema.
Watching Mészáros’ debut feature, I can see why films like this were not shown in the Soviet Union. Lacking defined plot and moral, the movie follows the adventures of Erzsi (Kati Kovács), an independent, curious and, apparently, sexually liberated “titular” girl*. Not what I’d call a comedy but with some wonderfully subtle comic scenes, like the one with a mysterious man “from the countryside” who claims he knew Erzsi’s parents...
*
Of the English (The Girl) and Spanish (La muchacha) titles. The picture was internationally released as The Day Has Gone. A better translation of the original Hungarian title, “[A] day gone by”, was done in the Soviet Union (Ушедший день in Russian). It could be that the film was named after the theme by the psychedelic rockers Illés, who make a mildly embarrassing appearance as a dance hall band.
