ACASA, MY HOME Film Review — Beauty and Complexity

A group of children splash around a pond in the sunshine. It is, at first, idyllic. The children appear to have an innate understanding of the natural world, showing an energy full of independence and self-sufficiency.

However, in just a few more minutes, the camera follows them back to their ramshackle shelter. Trash is everywhere. A small child chews then discards a piece of plastic. Pigeons and other animals wander in and out of the home.

Perhaps life isn’t the idyll first presented?

ACASA, MY HOME Follows a Romanian Family’s Eviction from Countryside to City

This juxtaposition is at the heart of Acasa, My Home, a documentary from Romania directed by Radu Ciorniciuc. It tells the story of a family of nine children who are forced to abruptly change their lifestyle when the natural area they lived in for twenty years, the Bucharest Delta, is turned into a park. Told without narration, the documentary instead relies on images that let the audience try to make sense of the situation.

Despite the film’s synopsis, which describes the family as living “in perfect harmony with nature,” the reality appears to be very different. We see the family burning trash and nearly igniting a forest fire. We also see that the patriarch is in ill-health, and not taking proper health precautions, among other familial issues.

However, a move into the big city of Bucharest may not be the answer. After being evicted from the park lands, the family is set up in an apartment where they face regular battles with Romanian social services. We see a family living in cramped conditions, needing to be taught how to separate garbage and do laundry.

Many other symbolic shots follow: the family bathing in a city fountain. The children fishing in an urban irrigation canal. But we also see the face of a grinning child as he is sheared of his long, dirty hair and given a trim new look.

There is much to take in, and much to discuss in Acasa, My Home, in this writer’s view. There are no easy answers, but a lot of compassion in this portrayal of a Romanian family’s odyssey. You, like this writer, will likely agree that the humanity and empathy that seems to drive the making of this film makes it a standout. But also it has a powerful impact for the very reason that it does not tell viewers what to think, but rather provides access and imagery that forms a complex portrait of a family in a time of change. Acasa, My Home will likely be enjoyed by any viewer prepared to have no easy answers, but ready to accept that life is complex, contradictory, but sometimes full of beauty.