By Ben Miller
Creating distance and disorienting your audience is usually not what a filmmaker strives for, especially in their feature-length debut. Luckily, director Sophy Romvari is able to utilize her own fractured memories to tell a deeply personal story in her devastatingly exceptional debut Blue Heron, now playing in limited release.
In our current entertainment landscape, plot points need to be reiterated, all needs to be revealed, and catharsis must be achieved. Romvari has no intention of giving you any of those answers, because she doesn't have the answers herself. She is looking back on her own experience without the benefit of understanding, because some things aren’t possible to fully comprehend...
Romvari creates a film without much of a plot, an immigrant family trying to deal with mental health issues, and never allows for any sensationalism, or any first-hand accounts outside of her own, which is that of an 8-year-old. Set over a summer in the late ‘90s, the story follows a family of six Hungarian immigrants who move to Vancouver Island in Canada. All of this is seen through the eyes of young Sasha (Eylul Guven).
The director surrounds the film in perfect weather, stunning mountain vistas, and carefree adventures. All the while, you know something is wrong. The eldest son, Jeremy (Edik Beddoes), is disconnected from the rest of the family. While kids play inside, Jeremy plays dead on the front porch. When the family is at the beach, Jeremy is off roaming on the rocks. There are no obvious things you can point to, but the mother (Iringo Reti) and father (Adam Tompa) have their guard up.
What do kids see and notice when things are going wrong in their family's lives? This is the puzzle Romvari attempts to reconstruct, knowing she will never actually get the answers. Sasha is much more perceptive than your average eight-year-old, but it calls into question if the filmmaker remembers herself that way, or if that's the reality. Memory is portrayed as a living organism that molds and shifts based on information. Is her memory of Jeremy softened because of hindsight, or does she intentionally choose to ignore certain pieces to better remember the reality?
That ambiguity in where the truth lies can be frustrating as a viewer. At a crisp 91 minutes, the film never relies on the cheap tricks of action or emotional blowups, but slowly unpeels the onion of the type of film it is trying to be, until it pulls the rug and shifts perspective. Once you realize what the film is doing (it takes about 10 minutes), you respect the idea all the more. It's a staggering tale of empathy, not only on behalf of her brother, but of her exasperated parents.
Blue Heron is a difficult film for me to review. My personal life and family history lend itself to connecting with the narrative. The mental health struggles of my own brother shone through in multiple places with Jeremy's behavior as well as the struggles of the parents. I cannot commend Romvari enough for not only her attempts to reconcile the past and what can be gleaned from it, but the gentleness of a very un-gentle topic.
But, just as Romvari has no desire to sensationalize in order to entertain, nor is she going to give clear answers to those who don't deserve it. Any sort of diagnosis, aftermath, outcome, circumstances, or clarity will not be given, because the audience has no right to it. This is her family's story and how she viewed it as an eight-year-old. It would be easy for a post-script or a few throwaway lines to wrap everything up in a bow, but that would be a massive slap in the face.
In fact, Romvari adds a piece of magical realism at the film’s conclusion, just to prove there are no answers. Why would you go to all this effort to meticulously cultivate a story like this just to get the answers you desire? Romvari trusts you don't need the answers.
Blue Heron is a remarkable film. Filled with sadness and emotional impact, Sophy Romvari has shown herself to be one of the brightest new directorial voices in filmmaking today. A