MOVIE REVIEW : A PERSONAL AND POLITICAL ‘DIARY’

Hungarian film maker Marta Meszaros’ “Diary for My Children” is so personal that it comes as no surprise that it is, in fact, autobiographical. It is one of those bleakly beautiful, deeply courageous films characteristic of the Eastern European cinema at its finest.

This winner of the special jury prize at Cannes last year opens today for a week’s run at the Fox International, as an introduction to a series of films made by women.

It is Budapest, 1947, when the orphaned 15-year-old Juli (Zsuzsa Czinkoczi) arrives from the Soviet Union, with a couple she calls her grandparents (Pal Zolnay, Mari Szemes), to live with Zolnay’s sister, Magda (Anna Polony), in a handsome old flat. Early on we learn where Magda stands politically; we hear her dictating praises of the Red Army for aiding the Hungarian people. (She is an editor of some sort but is soon to take a prestigious job as a prison warden.)

From the start, Magda and Juli clash, and through their increasing enmity we get an idea of what life was like in Hungary in the ‘30s and ‘40s. Juli’s memories trigger flashbacks, and gradually we learn that her mother (Ildiko Bansagi) died in Russia soon after her sculptor father (the distinguished Polish star Jan Nowicki) was inexplicably arrested during Stalin’s reign of terror, never to be seen or heard of again. Juli represents countless Hungarian people whose relatives disappeared at the hands of the Soviets, while Magda is one of those staunch Hungarian communists who suffered repeated imprisonment in the ‘30s for their beliefs. Polony’s performance as Magda is remarkable in its depth and range, letting us see the human being within this strong, somber woman, but then the entire cast is excellent.

Given the time and place, Juli comes across as breathtakingly headstrong, cutting classes constantly to go to the movies (among them, “Mata Hari” with Greta Garbo and a 1950 Hungarian musical comedy called “Life Is Beautiful if You Sing,” loaded with chilling communist propaganda).

As punishment for her truancy and generally rebellious attitude, Juli is frequently subjected to condemnation by a close circle of Magda’s friends and colleagues in the party. Within this dogmatic group, however, is one man, Janos (also played by Nowicki), who shows signs of understanding and compassion. From Janos, who’s beginning to depart from Magda’s hard line, Juli learns of Magda’s heroism in fighting for her beliefs. Janos extends his friendship, becoming a surrogate father as Juli continues to resist Magda, who won’t even let her know where any of her father’s relatives are because she disapproves of their politics.

Meszaros has said she wanted to make this film for 15 years, and the passing of time has surely helped her to present Magda in the round. We may deplore Magda’s politics and her dictatorial ways, but Meszaros allows us to see her as a human being, genuinely caring about Juli. Even though “Diary for My Children” is inevitably grim, it is not without its moments of innocent pleasure as experienced by young people everywhere.

A comparison between “Diary for My Children” and Wajda’s “Man of Marble” with its similar depiction of Stalinist rule in postwar Poland is inevitable, but Meszaros is as understated in her style as Wajda is bravura. Meszaros, furthermore, claims that in its depiction of the Stalinist terror of the ‘30s, her film is more candid than any other film from behind the Iron Curtain. Indeed, even though “Diary for My Children” ends in 1953--two sequels are to follow--it nevertheless comes across as an astonishingly bold work in its political candor.

There are no keener appreciators of irony and absurdity than the Eastern Europeans, and “Diary for My Children” (Times-rated Mature for complex themes), filmed in beautifully modulated shades of gray by Meszaros’ son, Miklos Jancso Jr., is studded with subtly, even comically, revealing moments. Most amusing is a birthday party for one of Juli’s classmates, the petulant son of a party leader. It’s held in a great, barren palace where the boy’s father stiffly shakes hands with each guest, clearly believing that he is bestowing a great honor upon them. This wonderfully self-important communist bigwig could just as easily be a self-made American or Western European tycoon or politician.