Few things in movies happen by coincidence, and fewer still in a film so self-conscious as Cristian Mungiu’s “Fjord.” The Romanian filmmaker’s stoic drama is designed to provoke viewers in opposite directions, snaring them in waiting traps and causing them to concede in agony, “You have a point!” Every aspect is meticulously studied and worried over, careful not to push the movie’s thorny narrative too far away from Mungiu’s bold central mission: artistic objectivity in one of the most partial, biased and fundamentalist times in modern history. Experiencing “Fjord” is more like playing a puzzle game than watching a film — viewers will be better served if they remember specific details for later. The minutiae are the key to freeing oneself from Mungiu’s clever trap.
That’s also why, when “Fjord” opens with soft piano chords playing “Amazing Grace,” it’s safe to assume the song will be an integral motif throughout the film. Here, grace is doled out either liberally or not at all, restricted by governmental red tape and damning paperwork. As a concept, grace isn’t amazing so much as it is a clerical headache, made all the more complicated by the efforts of the Gheorghius, Mihai (Sebastian Stan) and Lisbet (Renate Reinsve), whose five children have been removed from their care by Norwegian child protection services. Despite their genial nature, the Gheorghius stick out like sore Evangelical thumbs when they immigrate from conservative Romania to Lisbet’s progressive Norwegian hometown. So when one of their children is found with bruises on her in school, the discovery sets off a chain of events in which the Gheorghius’ faith is tested, and their values persecuted.
