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by anna jane begley
How I found myself paying to watch an hour’s worth of TV ads I’m not quite sure. What is usually the bane of the TV-watching experience, director Radu Jude and philosopher/co-director Christian Ferencz-Flatz have turned into an experimental documentary that observes Romania’s transition from socialism to capitalism post-Revolution.
Composed solely of Romanian TV ads aired in from the 1990s to the mid-2000s, this trippy video collage is reminiscent of a YouTube rabbit hole: from mouthwash and cleaning products to beer and sex workers, we watch flashes of Romanian society in a seemingly disjointed sequence of commercials. In doing so, Jude and Ferencz-Flatz hope, we can gain a vivid insight into their aspirations, values and domestic lives.
There are indeed insights aplenty: adverts for shareholdings in particular – which manipulatively play on the fear of missing out on opportunity – highlight the aggressive adoption of US-style capitalism and the push of this shiny new economic philosophy into the family home. Already made a profit from investing? Brilliant, beams one woman who has just made millions of leu. Now you can re-invest it into the Romanian Investment Fund.
Women are either homemakers or sex objects, the camera leering over their long legs and smiling, seductive faces, but then that’s nothing shocking in the advertising industry. Meanwhile men are either recruited into the macho ideal through army ads, or domesticated husbands keen to drink any worries of economic turmoil away with a frosted bottle of beer (“Good stuff stays good through the bad times,” gleams another ad).
The fact that the commercials are shown in rapid succession with no grounding narration, I almost wondered whether I had fallen asleep scrolling through Instagram reels, further amplified by the decision to cut some ads halfway through, often before you can tell what it is they’re advertising. Those with gnat-sized attention spans rejoice.
We are given an illusion of structure through the chapter headings (beginning with ‘The History of Romanian’ going through to ‘Money Talks’, ‘Masculine Feminine’ et cetera and ending with arguably the weakest chapter ‘The Ages of Man’), but – and pardon the pun – I’m not sure I quite buy it.
While chapters such as ‘Magique Mirage’ (which covers commercials that use elements of the fantastical) are neatly categorised, most struggle to differentiate between the overlapping themes and begin to merge into a phantasmagorical fever dream; one that, if you’ve read your history books – and I think this documentary takes for granted that you have – juxtaposes against the dire and violent climate plaguing the country at the time.
Whether these adverts serve to distract from the horrors of Romania’s brutal past and present uncertainty, or provide optimism to a country that is, at the time, struggling to define itself after decades of communism – Jude and Ferencz-Flatz leave interpretation to the viewer. This unusually passive documentary is anything but a hard sell.
That said, the view you take will determine your drinks pairing. If the optimist in you buys into adverts’ weighty promises of happiness then may I recommend a glass of Pepsi, the advert for which opens the film, adored with Roman iconography and cheap gladiator suits. If you’re over 18, you can add a shot of Imperial Vodka (“Long live the Imperial party!” exclaims the commercial which also alludes to the country’s Roman roots – perhaps 40% ethanol was the true reason behind such militaristic camaraderie).
If the sound of this documentary makes you want to run for the hills, set up a sheep farm and live off home grown cabbages, then you’d do well to make your own socată: a Romanian drink made by soaking three elderflowers, 100g of sugar and two cut up lemons in a two-litre jar of water and leaving to ferment for two to three days before straining. Or just buy Belvoir elderflower presse. Sometimes it’s worth caving into the corporates.
