On Body and Soul
Iwas that rare critic who did not fall for The Lobster, a strange Greek love story about people becoming animals that was nominated for best original screenplay in 2015. But now from Hungary ( just four countries to the north) comes On Body and Soul, with a similar body of plot and a far more accessible soul.
It’s also the only current foreign-language Oscar nominee not being released in cinemas, which is a shame if you live in Toronto or Vancouver, where fellow nominees Loveless, A Fantastic Woman and The Insult all open in February, and where The Square played in November. But it’s a plus if you’re anywhere else, where you can find it on Netflix.
Geza Morcsanyi stars as Endre, the boss at a Hungarian slaughterhouse. One day he notices Maria (Alexandra Borbely), the company’s new meat inspector. Most of the workers are put off by what they perceive as aloofness in the newcomer, but watchful Endre thinks she might just be acutely shy. The film agrees, and even shows her eating plain rice and fish sticks, movie- speak for “I’m on the spectrum.”
Endre and Maria might never have gotten past a few awkward pleasantries over lunch were it not for the presence of a psychologist, whose annual staff workup includes a host of sexual questions, and a request that they reveal their previous night’s dream. ( Clearly, I have much to learn about Hungarian workplace culture, or abattoir employment practices, or maybe both.)
Turns out both Maria and Endre have been having the same dream; they’re together in the woods, amiably grazing and drinking and sometimes touching noses. Oh, and they’re deer.
Oddly, nothing earthshaking comes of this, at l east in the early going. The psychologist t hinks these two are just playing a trick on her, and the couple doesn’t waste much time trying to figure out why it’s happening. They just accept the inevitable conclusion; despite the fact that neither is very romantically inclined, there’s clearly a bond between them, and they begin, tentatively, to explore it.
Writer/ director Il diko Enyedi is not the most prolific filmmaker — On Body and Soul is just her seventh feature in 30 years — but her newest has landed with a splash, winning the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival last year, in addition to its Oscar nomination. ( Hungary last won the foreign- language prize just two years ago with Son of Saul.)
She grounds this potentially magical story in the prosaic reality of the cowbutchering industry. “During the shooting of our film animals were harmed, but none of them for the sake of this film,” reads the cheeky credit at the movie’s end. “We just documented the daily routine of a slaughterhouse.” Did they ever; viewers with delicate dispos- itions beware.
If there’s a flaw in the film it’s that the director introduces interesting secondary characters, only to abandon them in favour of the main plot. Endre’s friend at work; Maria’s psychiatrist ( clearly a child therapist she never stopped seeing); a new shopfloor worker, young and full of testosterone — all present interesting opportunities for interaction, ultimately wasted. Even a police investigation into the theft of some veterinarian drugs goes nowhere.
On Body and Soul is a glorious story of two minds striving to connect, and of the difficulty in finding someone with whom to share your dreams, even if you’re literally doing just that. It may call to mind E. M. Forster’s epithet “only connect!” but it cries out for more connections within itself, and a deeper, more invested story. But its soul is willing, and that carries it pretty far. ½