“Kontroll” Directed by Nimród Antal
ThinkFilm Inc.
A drunk woman, half-dressed, descends into the Budapest subway
system, struggling to crack open a bottle of champagne. She pops
the cap, takes a swig, and approaches the metro platform. An
instant later, one red high heel is all that remains. She will
never see daylight again. Like the future of the woman from the
film’s opening scene, Hungarian writer-director Nimród
Antal’s cinematic debut is absent of natural light. Shot in
Budapest’s labyrinth-like underground metro system,
“Kontroll” embodies the exceptional experience of the
Hungarian “controllers,” men and women charged with
finding and removing ticketless passengers from the system’s
trains. Controllers are not respected; they are hated. And thus the
life of a controller becomes one of misery and sin. But the
controllers at first glance are neither miserable nor sinful.
Controlling becomes a lifestyle, a game, an act of heroism. Every
man and woman brings a multifaceted personality, sometimes
humorous, most often psychotic. In fact, in one of the most
beautiful and hilarious scenes of the film, the controllers embark
on their regular appointments with the company psychologist. But,
looking back, the scene in fact represents and foreshadows the
psychological breakdown central to the plot of the film. Ironically
enough, the light humor only obscures the dark. Meanwhile, as the
prologue of the film duly claims, “Kontroll” plays with
the concepts of good and evil. In placing the controllers as the
protagonists and the subway passengers as the villains of the tale,
Antal depicts a dark world of contradiction. The subway rider
becomes the common enemy, so even the antagonistic controllers are
protagonists in one way or another. Surging
“Matrix”-like music, aesthetically complex chase
scenes, a montage editing style and a structurally dynamic setting
feed the film’s energetic blend of mystery, thriller and
emotional drama. The set is natural; shots are carefully
constructed. Costumes harness viewers in an unknown place between
the past and the future. But then, what is real? Viewers must
suspend disbelief to be transported into a world that seems both
too real and too fantastical. The plot revolves around a series of
mysterious subway deaths: random passengers who end up in the
tracks as the subway is about to pass. Are they, as the authorities
initially assume, “jumpers”? Or have they been pushed
to a harrowing death? The deaths are pinned on the seemingly
innocent protagonist Bulcsú, a controller who never leaves the
underground world, not even to sleep. And the security cameras
mysteriously fail to capture proof for or against his case. So did
he do it? He claims he did not. But then again, he has lived in the
subway system for longer than he can remember. Is he mad? How can
we believe a mad man? Ultimately, though, the film is about
Bulcsú’s emotional transformation. Exploration of
personal realism adds disturbing but necessary dimension to the
plot. Played beautifully with naivete and articulation by
Sándor Csányi, Bulcsú’s role is padded by a
well-drawn cast of supporting characters, ranging from a goofy
narcoleptic to a woman dressed as a teddy bear. The film’s
only fault lies in its inability to find a common core, fragmented
through a simplistic facade in contrast with an overly complex
underscore. And while every element is cautiously manufactured, the
film almost calls for overanalysis, lest the viewer miss something
of vital importance to some sideline theme. For example, an owl
appears twice in the film. Underground. Why? But, even then, there
is not an unexciting moment. Through its straightforwardness and
intricacy, comedy and chases, “Kontroll” is, in so many
words, nothing less than a formulaically unique piece of art.
Unlike his film, the future of newcomer Nimród Antal is full
of light. -Devon Dickau