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Absurdist Satirical Take on Pasolini Ultimately Loses Focus

After a world premiere in Tribeca’s international narrative competition, Slovenian director-writer Sonja Prosenc brings her third feature, the social satire “Family Therapy,” to contend in Sarajevo. The filmmaker’s latest presents an absurdist spin on the premise of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s “Teorema.” The narrative unfolds as the arrival of a handsome, young stranger disrupts the dynamics of an unpleasant, nouveau riche Slovenian family. While the movie delivers entertainment for much of its duration, Prosenc allows the story to overextend itself, missing several natural conclusions. Despite the screenplay’s flaws, the magnificent cinematography by Mitja Ličen, strong acting, and stunning production design provide enough compensation.

The striking opening moments feature a smoking car bursting into flames by the roadside, with a family of three scrambling to safety. This scene, however, turns out to be a distraction, as the family in distress plays only a minor role. Instead, the focus is on the family Kralj — the name translates to King — who speed by in a fancy car without stopping to help.

The unusual, unsympathetic behavior of the Kraljs disturbs Julien, a 25-year-old French newcomer played by Aliocha Schneider, who has just arrived for an extended visit. He is the son of family patriarch Aleks (Marko Mandić) from a previous relationship. It’s clear that father and son barely know each other, and the Kralj women — artist-gallerist wife Olivia (Katarina Stegnar) and unhappy tween daughter Agata (Mila Bezjak) — are less than welcoming.

The Kralj home, where much of the action takes place, is an architectural beauty made of concrete and glass, located at the edge of a forest. The modern, minimalist style and state-of-the-art smart house technology are designed to keep the outside world at bay while allowing the family to keep an eye on nature nearby.

Julien’s arrival disturbs the family’s isolated and rigidly ordered existence. His empathy and kindness lead to both literal and metaphorical fractures within their lives. Yet, in Prosenc’s uneven screenplay, these breakages don’t result in significant revelations.

As seen in the opening moments, the film is filled with small incidents that initially seem poised to push the plot in interesting directions. However, they often end up as mere distractions. This is particularly true for short scenes involving the sexual tension that Julien’s presence stirs in both mother and daughter. On the other hand, an extended scene showcasing a pretentious art-world party, which includes a performance by Serbian singer Ana Đurić-Konstrakta and Aleks’s self-humiliation, quickly makes its point but drags on for too long.

Prosenc’s fine actors are committed, though some of them don’t have a lot to work with. Mandić portrays the writer manqué Aleks with a manic twinkle in his eye and an improbable obsession with outer space. Stegnar plays the haughty ice queen Olivia, whose concern for her fragile daughter provides a softer layer to her character (notably played by Stegnar’s real-life child). As the deus ex machina of the plot, the French-Canadian performer Schneider makes Julien a decent human being trying to accept his role within this flawed family.

In a film where ambiance often overshadows the plot, the exceptional production design by Tatjana Čanić Stanković deserves special mention. The costumes by Gilda Venturini and Dubravka Skvrce are equally impressive, as is the striking score by the Slovenian musical duo Primož Hladnik and Boris Benko, who perform and record under the band name Silence.

Source: Variety