It wasn’t until I was sitting down to watch Fjord, a movie I was interested in solely because I knew it had won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, that I realized: I don’t care about the Palme d’Or. Sometimes, the festival absolutely gets it right, with recent examples being Titane and Parasite. Other times, the winner of the festival’s best prize ends up being a movie that doesn’t impress me in any significant way. Namely, I saw both Ruben Östlund‘s The Square and Triangle of Sadness solely on the fact that they won the award, and walked out of both saying, “Okay.” Luckily, Östlund, you’re not the only one to win the Palme d’Or with a movie that doesn’t win me over in any capacity, as Cristian Mungiu‘s latest can also join that elite club.
Romanian father Mihai Gheorghiu (Sebastian Stan) and his Norwegian wife Lisbet (Renate Reinsve) leave Romania to live in a small Norwegian community with their five children. As the family attempts to ingratiate themselves in the progressive community, they’re looked at as outsiders for their conservative religious beliefs. One day, a teacher notices bruises on one of the children, which coincides with overhearing two of the children claim their mother slapped them. After one of the children claimed in school that homosexuality is a sin, child services swoops in to take all five children, including an infant, away from the family. Mihai and Lisbet do everything in their power to prove that previously spanking their children shouldn’t be equated with physical abuse, regardless of their frowned-upon beliefs.
Sebastian Stan must be the biggest surprise out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, right? Not only does he regularly star in movies that don’t come from Marvel Studios, but his selections are often provocative outings. And, no shade to any of the other Avengers, but he even managed to secure Golden Globe nominations for two different movies in the same year, which is impressive! His dour Mihai succeeds largely in how muted the performance is; the father is stoic and detached, yet never in a way where you feel like he is hiding an inner darkness that would imply severe physical abuse. Stan is, unsurprisingly, quite good in the role and the way he maintains just enough emotional distance from everyone around him, yet occasionally lets his anger and frustrations at the situation bubble over.
Reinsve might not be in the MCU (yet), but she just continues to churn out engaging performances, no matter what she’s in. Lisbet’s job at a senior living facility comes with strict regulations about the detachment required of such a role, yet she can’t help but express her empathy for everyone around her. However, with that empathy going hand in hand with her church group and her beliefs, it’s hard to separate how much of this empathy is authentic and how much could be a recruitment tactic.
It’s safe to say that Mungiu has made a challenging movie. While he doesn’t make the movie a black-and-white dissection of individuals or institutions, he does push buttons of political and personal beliefs. The narrative forces the audience to empathize with the conservative family who do believe homosexuality is a sin, while also demonizing those whose goal it is to protect children. There are times when the conservative outlook is being championed, to the point that it feels like something the Daily Wire would produce. It’s hard to root for characters in a misunderstanding as heroes when they don’t allow their children to dance.
Fjord is an exercise in evoking empathy for anyone, regardless of their cultural or religious beliefs, though as an American in 2026, this is a difficult ask. With the movie being a co-production between Romania, France, Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden, it seems fair to say Mungiu is speaking more to the melting pot of the distinct cultural differences of all of these nations, which have more nuance in their differences as compared to America. The most obvious takeaway, though, is that Mungiu seems to be criticizing institutions and their practices when compared to individuals.
The Gheorghiu family is blindly following the teachings of their religion, regardless of the impact it has on their children in the short or long term. Norwegian child services is taking kids away from their parents based on knee-jerk reactions from concerned adults, even without significant evidence for the alleged abuse. The situation inspires desperate measures from all parties involved, whereas if everyone involved in the matter could leave their religious or cultural beliefs behind temporarily, they could get to the bottom of the situation.
Fjord is a 2.5-hour legal drama that rarely thrills, which is a testament to the performances and script that we could be so engaged even without dramatic confrontations. However, it carefully avoids offering any answers that feel significant in any real way, and while it seems like the point was to not give satisfying conclusions, it’s hard to champion a movie whose mission is to mildly frustrate the audience in its attempts to get you to empathize with conservatives who put a ban on YouTube.
Wolfman Moon Scale
