By this point, there is no reason to resist proclaiming Radu Jude one of the most essential, radical voices in contemporary cinema. Watching his work is akin to seeing Jean-Luc Godard and his cohorts essentially rewrite the cinematic lexicon, capturing the cultural zeitgeist in a way that has never been done before – and Jude does it through his own unique perspective, taking command over the most scathing, unsettling form of social commentary imaginable. This is brilliantly demonstrated in every work he has directed in the past few years, and certainly evident in both the stories and their execution, which tend to be far more challenging than we would expect when basing our initial assessment on their unconventional exteriors. One of his more recent offerings (since he’s at the point where he’s making more than one film per year) is Kontinental ’25, in which he explores yet another corner of his native Romania, this time taking us to Cluj, the administrative capital of the Transylvania region. However, those expecting spooky tales of lingering vampiric figures are bound to be disappointed, since the story he tells is that of Orsolya, a hard-working civil servant who finds herself in a state of existential panic after her efforts to evict a squatter from his makeshift home has quite a tragic end – and even after being cleared of any wrongdoing, the protagonist still struggles to reckon with the realisation that she may have inadvertently contributed to a man’s untimely demise, leading her down a path of enormous psychological strain. Described by the director as his tribute to Roberto Rossellini and his very specific kind of meandering character-driven dramas that attempt to comprehend the full scope of the human condition, Kontinental ’25 is an exceptional film, a quietly demented and endlessly entertaining dark comedy about serious matters, handcrafted by a director whose commitment to representing different sides of humanity has once again manifested in a truly tremendous comedy with fascinating dramatic components that make it a far more engaging experience than we’d ever anticipate.

As with every one of his films, it is important to try and discern exactly what Jude was attempting to communicate with Kontinental ’25 – the final destination may not be what we expect, but there still needs to be something resembling a set of core themes and a structure that ties them all together. Throughout this film, the director is taking aim at the bureaucracy, asking a very simple question: why is it that organisations and institutions that claim to serve the people are usually the first to inflict suffering and despair on the very groups they purport to serve? The answers are not clear, and Jude doesn’t claim to know exactly how to provide any solution to the problems he poses. Instead, he crafts a film that attempts to peer behind the curtain of certain social situations, providing insights into the daily trials and tribulations of someone who exists as both a representative of an oppressive system and as a functioning person with a conscience, which appears to be a rare commodity in this community. There isn’t any clear reason why he chose to set the film in Cluj, outside of perhaps just being an opportunity to expand the scope of the narrative from Bucharest (where most of the major Romanian films that are known internationally are set), and looking at cultural differences that are perhaps shrouded in other regions. This territory has a large Hungarian-speaking population, with the protagonist herself being one, which is something that Jude carefully weaves into the narrative in a way that feels natural but also provocative, using it as the foundation for some wickedly funny and also very insightful moments. The cultural elements that Jude uses to unpack this film are always very interesting, and he looks beyond the humour to find something deeper and more profound in the process of telling this simple but fascinating story that is not entirely clear in its intentions at first, but has a complexity that is difficult to overlook.

What we often have to admit with Jude and his unique approach to crafting these films is that he is less focused on narrative and more on structure, which is where we find the true ingenuity emerging, often in very creative and daring ways. Kontinental ’25 follows a very simple story of a woman being plunged into an existential crisis, but it’s in the form that the true brilliance emerges – it is designed as a picaresque journey through a city that appears to be only marginally interesting. The tourists who pass through don’t have too much interest in the history of the region, since they’re likely only using it as a passageway into the surrounding areas as part of the worldwide fascination with vampire culture (something that Jude addresses brilliantly in his other film from this year), despite the very vibrant, complex cultural nuances that define the region. However, this is not some fervent advocacy for Cluj to become the next major holiday destination for the global population – in fact, Jude has very little reverence for the region or its people, viewing them as sardonic, hedonistic individuals without any desire to do anything that doesn’t serve their personal interests. Its in this aspect that we find Kontinental ’25 developing quite a unique identity, following the protagonist as she navigates both personal crisis of identity (wondering whether she is actually fit for this line of work), as well as realising the challenges that come with handling intense bureaucratic red tape that supposedly keeps everyone in line, but in reality simply serves to sew further division wherever possible. The film moves from one lengthy setpiece to another – long dialogues, some of which have valuable insights, others nothing more than elaborate set-ups for crude and outrageous jokes (and we can never be sure which is which – we sometimes wait ten or fifteen minutes for the punchline, only to be met by some disquieting piece of philosophical commentary, or vice versa), highlighting the director’s skill at both humour and deep existential ponderings, both of which are vital to this film’s identity as a whole.

Characterisation is key to this film, and we find that Jude is certainly nothing if not wholeheartedly committed to the art of creating memorable protagonists, people who are complex and unconventional, but quintessentially human in both their external behaviour and internal existential quandaries. How this factors into Kontinental ’25 is quite interesting, since it is essentially a character study of a woman who finds herself witnessing an unfortunate (but sadly very common) incident in which someone she was forced to legally evict ends his life – and while most would just write this off as being part of the job, she descends into a state of existential panic. This kind of film would not work if Jude hadn’t found the right performer, and credit has to go to Eszter Tompa, whose portrayal of Orsolya is spellbinding. There needs to be some degree of authenticity in this part – unlike some of his other protagonists, who are defined by their wild behaviour and eccentric personalities, this character needed to be more grounded, an empathetic woman who struggles to reconcile the duties of her job with her internal morality, leading to some of the film’s most profound and unexpectedly funny insights. Her interactions with a range of characters evoke some intriguing conversations, each one painting a vivid picture of this woman and her steady descent into what she considers to be morality-infused madness. She and Jude make for a brilliant pairing, since Tompa is willing to go to some very peculiar places (both physically and psychologically) to help the director realise his abstract vision, and while it seems to be quite a simple performance on the surface – especially since its quite subdued, primarily consisting of reacting to the more offbeat work being done by some of her scene partners like Gabriel Spahiu and Adonis Tanța, both of which are mainstays in Jude’s work – there is a quiet dignity that pulsates throughout this film, all being traced back to how Tompa commits wholeheartedly to this strange and unconventional premise.

Some may consider Kontinental ’25 to be a slight step backwards for Jude (particularly since it is sandwiched in between his masterpiece Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World and his personal passion project Dracula, with a couple of documentaries thrown in as well), but there is always something to be said about taking common ideas and stylistic approaches and making them still seem entirely radical, which is the case here. Once again, this film is most enjoyable if one is able to avoid rationalising every decision or seeking meaning in each moment, and instead just surrender to the director’s unorthodox but brilliant vision. Its not likely going to be the film that defines Jude’s style, but it is most likely to convert those who are agnostic to his work – its much shorter (running at less than two hours, a welcome change after a few lengthy masterpieces that appeared on either side), and far more accessible, providing the usual philosophical observations, unconventional absurdist humour and meandering tone that is often definitive of his work, just delivered in a smaller and more manageable format that may not alienate those who are not acclimated to his style. As a whole, Kontinental ’25 is a fascinating, complex film that sees Jude pursue yet another extraordinary set of themes, crafting them into this engaging, enthralling character study about the nature of humanity and our inherent morality, which can change depending on a number of factors. Jude is an absolute genius, and someone who may be an acquired taste, but also redefining cinema under his own vision – and while its not going to be as much of a landmark as some other works, Kontinental ’25 is still an immense achievement, and a film that knows exactly how to approach some tricky subject matter in a way that is daring but endearing, a perfect description of Jude and everything he sets out to achieve.