‘R.M.N.’ Review: Cristian Mungiu’s Nightmarish Naturalism Detonates a Scabrous Social-Division Drama

variety.com:

Jessica Kiang The title is not, in the end, some kind of code for “Romania.” But if it were, it would be appropriate: The enormous, troubling, intricately pessimistic “R.M.N.” from director Cristian Mungiu, probably the pre-eminent filmmaker of the Romanian New Wave, is little less than a pared-back state of the nation, a microcosmic analogy for an entire shattered society boiled dry of its softening vowels, in which only the harder elements — the bigotries, the betrayals, and a surprising number of bears — remain.Laid out in discrete scenes of astonishing clarity and density, with the rigor of their construction belied by the spontaneity of their presentation, the connections between the various strands are initially difficult to discern.

Rudi (Mark Blenyesi), a little boy walking to school, comes across a sight in the woods that is kept offscreen, but that instills in him such terror he runs home and ceases speaking.

Matthias (Marin Grigore), a worker in a German slaughterhouse, responds to a racist slur with stunningly instant violence, and flees into the night.

Csilla (Judith State), who runs a small bread factory, discusses with her boss the difficulties of attracting local bakers at the minimum-wage salary they’re offering.