Romanian film review – The artist & the last miners: Planet Petrila

Young filmmaker Andrei Dăscălescu made a splash with his 2009 feature debut, the affectionate Constantin and Elena, a documentary on an elder couple and their love story spanning decades. His following doc has been anticipated with the same enthusiasm, and it certainly delivers. Planeta Petrila/Planet Petrila has been doing the festival circuit, both locally and internationally, and quite successfully. I watched the film in June at the Transilvania Film Festival/TIFF, where it premiered in Romania, and both screenings were a blast, with a beautifully receptive audience, both during and after the screening. In short, they loved it. Which is not hard to do since it tackles a pressing matter and features a very charismatic protagonist. The former is the closing of the mine in the Transylvanian town of Petrila (formerly the country’s mining center and currently in a desolate post-industrial state) and the struggle of some of its inhabitants and their allies to maintain its (mining) history and heritage. Visual artist Ion Barbu, himself a former miner in Petrila, has been fighting for years to draw attention to the dangers of demolishing former mining landmarks, as well as build a cultural identity for the town by painting its deserted buildings, organizing an underground theatre festival and other socially-conscious actions. Thanks to these efforts, several buildings were indeed listed as part of Romania’s industrial heritage. Watching Barbu and his friends achieve this victory is a fun ride, but the social aspect is only marginally touched upon. With such a serious background, it would have been interesting to know more about an area losing a way of life, even if it meant poor health and early death for the ones it supported. An insight is provided by a miner which is chosen to speak for the community. The fittingly named Cenușă (soot) is a man of few but striking words, whose sad, gentle eyes tell a story deeper and more touching than the film chooses to tell. As brilliant as Barbu’ irreverent humor and actions are, I couldn’t help longing to know more about the (working) community Cenușă stands for. Without it, all the flashier elements of the film seem just that: mere flashes, and the film itself only scratching the surface, even if skilfully. It is easy to like Planet Petrila but ultimately I was left thinking that the film misses its chance of treating a complex subject with more depth by losing the agenda, looking at all sides of a story, and asking more questions rather than delivering easy answers. That Planet Petrila is still a handsome, engaging film is mainly Barbu’s credit. He is the epitome of the socially and politically active artist, with glorious charm to boost.