Like most Eastern European countries, Hungary was one of the many nations that attempted to fight against the encroaching danger of the Soviet Union, and in 1956 staged an uprising against the Communist government in an attempt to break free of the shackles that were gradually being placed on its people. These protests unfortunately failed dismally, leading to even more violence and despair throughout the country. For many, the only logical way to escape these dangers would be to flee to neighbouring countries, where they hoped they would be granted asylum. These efforts are the subject of Daniel Takes a Train (Hungarian: Szerencsés Dániel), a gorgeous and heartbreaking historical drama by acclaimed Hungarian filmmaker Pál Sándor, who tells this tragic story through the eyes of one individual, a young man who sees his promising future eroding every day that he remains in a country enveloped by tension and violence, his only solution being to make his way to Hungary, leaving his previous life behind in the hopes of having any future ahead of him. It’s a heartwrenching, deeply emotional story of the impact Communism had, not only on the broader socio-political systems of the world, but also on the individual level, with many people falling victim to a system supposedly designed to give them more power, but unfortunately became corrupted too fast, leading to an even more immense loss of freedom and autonomy. Told with precision and an earnest candour that can only come from someone who experienced these events firsthand to some degree, Daniel Takes a Train is a beautiful film that provokes discussion around some extremely broad and disquieting issues.

Daniel Takes a Train may seem like a minor work, the kind of small-scale drama that is really only embraced within its native country. Hungary has had a long and storied process of bringing their cultural histories to the screen, some of them being unimpeachable masterpieces that have been widely embraced (such as the incredible Red Psalm or the stunning works of Béla Tarr), others being more obscure and not breaking through outside the country and its diaspora. It’s unfortunate, since this film in particular is possibly one of the most poignant accounts of the effects of the Soviet Union ever put on film, a heartbreaking account of the challenges entire populations faced as a result of this system that was venturing deeper into Europe during this period. It is also as well-composed as any mainstream war drama, with gorgeous cinematography and stunning performances complementing the striking, heartfelt story. It’s unsurprising that this is a film that has been often recommended to outsiders by docents of Hungarian culture – this is a beautiful historical document that doesn’t only offer the viewer a meaningful, enthralling story that plays out like a well-made thriller, but functions as a beautiful historical document, an opportunity for Sándor to record this particular moment in his country’s past in an unforgettable series of rivetting snapshots that give insights into the period. These kinds of films can sometimes be overwhelming in social commentary, and the sensationalism that emerges is the result of the deep passion felt toward the subject matter. It’s a striking manifesto that can move even the most cynical of viewers, since the reality depicted throughout the film often means more than we might give it credit for based on a cursory glance.

Told through the perspective of an ordinary young man and his quest to find freedom by any means necessary, Daniel Takes a Train voyages to the ends of the earth to tell this story and give a voice to the voiceless. Sándor uses the character of Daniel as an emblem for the ordinary Hungarian citizen who became victims of a political system they never agreed to, but which they are expected to conform, or else face harsh consequences. This form of narrative synecdoche, whereby a film uses one perspective as a mascot for the entire population and their collective experiences, is one often used in historical dramas, since it allows the filmmakers to portray these events without needing to consistently shift perspective, but rather filtering it through the eyes of a commonplace individual, acting as the audience surrogate. In this regard, Daniel Takes a Train features a staggering performance from the young Péter Rudolf, who showed promise from the first moment he steps into frame. He plays a character that is not particularly remarkable – caught between adolescence and adulthood, Daniel struggles with his internal quandaries, being old enough to understand the reality that surrounds him, but too young to know exactly how to resolve it. It leads to a beautiful and measured performance from an actor whose nuanced interpretation of this character anchors the film. He is also supported by veteran actors Mari Törőcsik (widely considered the finest actress in the history of Hungarian cinema) and Tamás Major, who have smaller but integral parts, adding to the narrative tapestry of this film.

As far as historical dramas go, Daniel Takes a Train is not particularly well-known outside of those who have actively pursued exploring this specific era in Hungarian history, but this doesn’t discount it from being absolutely essential. There has been a steady reappraisal of this film, as a means to have this story disseminated widely – and as one of the most uncompromisingly bleak, but also deeply motivational fictional texts on this moment in Hungary’s past, one can easily understand why it has been the subject of so much recent discussion. It’s a beautiful, well-made film that carries a lot of heartfulness, all of which is embedded in the subject matter. Leaping between genres, operating as both a tense historical thriller and deeply moving story of friendship, family and romance, Daniel Takes a Train is a multilayered film with a meaningful message at its core. It rarely (if ever) goes beyond what we’d expect from such a film, but it achieves its central intention, and consistently manages to tell this melancholy story without the need of overt sentimentalism or overwrought emotions, which would have added a heavy-handed quality to a film that truly did not need it. Quiet, brooding but absolutely stunning in both narrative execution, Daniel Takes a Train is a powerful text, and Sándor achieved something very special with this film, which ventures into the past and returns with a powerful ode to the resilience of those who fell victim to a system in which they never stood much of a chance in the first place.