‘Father’ review: Slovak filmmaker Tereza Nvotova presents a bold, powerful portrait of paternal guilt

Dir: Tereza Nvotova. Slovakia/Czech Republic/Poland. 2025. 103mins

Frazzled father Michal (Milan Ondrik) drops his two-year-old daughter at nursery then plunges right into a hectic day at work. Hours later, he realises that he didn’t, the truth is, go away her at nursery in any case, and the kid perished within the baking summer time warmth of his automotive. Tortured by grief and guilt, Michal questions whether or not he has any proper to a future; in the meantime, his marriage begins to buckle underneath the stress. That is uncooked, uncomfortable filmmaking which, because of Ondrik’s extraordinary efficiency and Tereza Nvotova’s daring directing decisions, doesn’t simply present us Michal’s anguish, it evokes, with uncanny accuracy, the physiological sensations of mounting dread.

 Directed and acted with an unflinching, nearly ruthless precision

That is the third characteristic from Nvotova following 2017 debut Filthy and 2022’s Nightsirens, which gained Locarno’s Golden Leopard. This newest work additional cements her as a major expertise; it’s arduous to consider any image since Lodge Kerrigan’s Keane (2004) which has so bruisingly captured the choking nervousness of parental failure. Father, which premiered in Venice and gained Zurich’s Golden Eye for greatest movie, is Slovakia’s offician Oscar submission, and screens in Tallinn throughout a wholesome pageant run. Whereas it’s an undeniably harrowing watch, the standard of the filmmaking has seen it safe offers in a number of key territories, and should tempt additional distributors.

The query that hangs over the movie – it’s even perhaps a stumbling block at first – is how might this tragedy have occurred? How might a dad or mum who adores his youngster not solely neglect that she is within the automotive, but additionally create a false reminiscence of delivering her to security? However Nvotova’s screenplay is factually primarily based, not simply on one case however on a number of situations. There’s even a reputation for this well-documented reminiscence glitch: ’Forgotten Child Syndrome’. 

The life that Michal, the editor/writer of {a magazine}, shares along with his youthful spouse Zuzka (Dominika Moravkova) is enviable and prosperous. Utilizing the primary of the various lengthy, unbroken and technically advanced monitoring pictures which are a characteristic of cinematographer Adam Suzin’s strategy, Nvotova captures the high-achieving bustle of the moneyed family. The home is ethereal and fashionable; Michal and his household’s lives appear blessed.

However there’s an undercurrent of stress, within the tight smiles of Michal’s workers and the hectoring, perpetual ring of his cellphone. The enterprise is struggling and everybody wants one thing from Michal, putting mounting calls for on his consideration and his time. None of which is an excuse for his deadly mistake, however, just like the throbbing, rhythmic pulse of the rating, it’s a subliminal background hum of disquiet. 

Music, by Nvotova’s common collaborator Pjoni, is a central and important part within the image’s visceral energy. Michal’s mounting panic as he first realises that one thing is improper is brilliantly evoked, by a swell of sound that captures the roar of blood within the ears; in the meantime, the digital camera loses its grip on the bottom, swimming in vertigo-inducing spirals. As time passes, the shock is muted however the guilt and grief are stubbornly persistent. They arrive in waves, heralded by the extraordinary swell of the rating and by the agony in Michal’s face because it crumples. It’s a efficiency so stinging and flayed that it’s painful to observe.

Zuzka, alternatively, is tougher to learn. Her preliminary response – an animalistic howl of extended despair – is relatable. However a later scene – nonetheless, we assume, just a few quick weeks after her daughter’s loss of life – sees Zuzka dancing joyfully round her front room earlier than telling Michal that they should separate. Maybe it’s the realisation that she will go away that prompts her to bop. Maybe she simply wants to maneuver her physique. However, as a filmmaking alternative, it’s a second that feels jarringly out of tune with the remainder of the movie. Nonetheless, it’s a uncommon word of discord in a movie which is in any other case directed and acted with an unflinching, nearly ruthless precision.