David Seko and Anca Pastramă
One of the most influential and long-standing Romanian film critics, author of countless articles and landmark books on the history of Romanian cinema, Valerian Sava is set to receive the Lifetime Achievement Award at TIFF 24.
It means a lot. In a way, I’m more of a creation of Tudor Giurgiu and Mihai Chirilov. I tend to go against the grain, and I’m not used to being courted by the authorities. So, the fact that I’m receiving an award, that Tudor Giurgiu said my name out loud, that I was applauded in Piața Unirii… it’s all very far removed from my usual experience. In a sense, it feels like a rebirth. At 90, I feel like I’m at a new starting point.
There’s a line somewhere in the presentation that says I’m one of the most influential film critics in Romania. That’s an undeserved compliment. I don’t think anyone today has real influence as a critic in Romania. The new critics — very talented ones, like Andrei Gorzo or Victor Morozov — barely have any outlets for their work. There’s no regularly published film magazine. I was a founding editor of the magazine Cinema back in 1963, under the leadership of Victor Iliu. We managed, for example, to support the generation of the 1970s — Mircea Veroiu, Dan Pița, Mircea Daneliuc — with our limited resources, but there was a monthly cinema magazine and we had a role in backing first-time filmmakers. Even more important was the period after 1990 — or really, after 2000 — when Alex. Leo Șerban initiated the group called “The Five Who Scared the Rest,” paraphrasing that famous title. I was among them, even though I wasn’t of Alex Leo’s generation. There was Mihai Chirilov, Laurențiu Brătan, I think Gorzo was there too. That group followed and supported the rise of the new Romanian cinema — the New Wave that eventually became the Romanian cinema — up until around 2010. Now we’re in a kind of post–New Romanian Cinema era. Film criticism has fewer resources and far fewer platforms than it did in that first decade.
Consistency is its greatest virtue — perseverance. As always, there’s an abundance, but also a high standard, a provocative level of selection ensured by Mihai Chirilov. For cinema, festivals are the lungs through which it breathes. Without festivals, cinema wouldn’t take shape, wouldn’t exist. As for changes, I’ve noticed an increase in screenings and film viewings, but also — and I say this with some regret — a decrease in the number of meetings between the press and filmmakers in competition. Conversations have been reduced. In a way, that’s a good thing: society evolves, and now we want more action and direct experience than statements and words. Other than that, I haven’t seen any major shifts. Nor should there be, in a festival that started strong and has stayed remarkably consistent.
Let’s say Antonioni’s trilogy: L’Avventura, La Notte, and L’Eclisse. Then Wings of Desire by Wim Wenders. And from Romania… The Death of Mr. Lăzărescu.
Absolutely. One of the things Tudor Giurgiu and Mihai Chirilov proved me wrong about is that, when they launched the first TIFF edition, they insisted heavily at the press conference in Bucharest on finding a cinephile audience. With my own biases, I thought, "A festival needs the films, the competition, the jury, the awards… what does the audience have to do with it? That’s secondary." I was wrong, and they were right. Because it’s precisely the quality and magnitude of the audience here that has consecrated this festival. The atmosphere, the interest, the audience’s ability to understand challenging films. I was watching that Belgian competition film The Last Road at Cinema Victoria — extremely difficult to follow; frankly, it defeated my stamina that night. Yet the theater was packed. In the end, in cinema, we live through our audience.
Now that’s a tough one. Life and history are full of unpredictability. I think I quoted this morning the title of a recent book: A World Gone Mad. Regarding the influence of criticism… in Romania, it’s “marvelous, but completely absent,” to paraphrase a well-known phrase. Since we don’t have a proper film publication — even though we have young critics, even brilliant ones in my opinion, like Gorzo and Morozov — what influence can they really have? On the international level, there’s still an organized critics’ society, FIPRESCI. It has always played an important role, even here in Cluj, by shaping the festival’s direction. The need for film criticism is just as vital as the need for film festivals.
At one of the early editions, I was rooming with my late colleague Tudor Caranfil. We were discussing The Death of Mr. Lăzărescu, which we had just seen, and we were both a bit puzzled. Not that we rejected it, but we had our doubts. I don’t know what kind of walls the hotel had, but Andrei Gorzo, who was in the room next door and overheard our whole conversation, showed up the next day and, when he saw us, couldn’t stop laughing. A sort of “Look at you two, so out of touch.”