Fear, language, bullying, education style. These four elements form the Molotov cocktail of Palkó’s (Paul Mátis) turbulent life at his new school in Hungary.

Recently arrived from Germany, where his parents had emigrated years earlier from the Magyar homeland, Palkó initially struggles with the language, the stricter educational style, and the fear of isolation due to being different. These challenges are temporarily eased by “the power of friendship” and the support of a caring teacher, Juci (Anna Mészöly), who disagrees with her colleagues’ pedagogical approach. Unfortunately, the dream soon turns into a nightmare when an innocent joke is used to reprimand the boy, alienate his friends, and trigger bullying behaviour, even from members of the teaching staff.

This type of film demands that two elements be strong enough to carry its weight: the acting and the writing. Fortunately, both exceed expectations. The performances from the entire cast, young and adult alike, are outstanding, and the script offers a (slightly uneven but) incisive look at the dynamics between and within the various groups that make up a school: students, teachers, government officials, and parents.

One of the film’s highlights is how, despite its serious subject matter, writer-director Bálint Szimler skilfully weaves in a side plot involving the repair of a window. While well integrated into the overall narrative, this subplot stands out for its more comedic tone, offering welcome relief from the film’s otherwise dramatic atmosphere.

This unconventional documentary thrives in its dissection of the ins and outs of a decrepit pawnshop in a grey neighbourhood.

Spearheaded by good-hearted owners who unfortunately lead their business to its demise through a mix of kindness and poor management, the pawnshop becomes the epicentre of the action. We’re engulfed in its chaotic nature, which simultaneously serves as a kind of psychotherapeutic space for both workers and customers. Nonetheless, the private (non-business-related) struggles faced by our protagonists feel somewhat underplayed.

Finally, it’s worth mentioning that while the indoor scenes are magnificent (featuring some notably striking photography), the brief glimpse into the surrounding community and environment, which peaks with the fantastic big sale meant to save the failing business, leaves you wanting to explore more of this outside world.

The film is explicit in its depiction of the Russo-Ukrainian war, specifically the early stages of Russia’s offensive in February 2022, and provides pointed social commentary on Russian-Ukrainian relations and the West’s role in the conflict. Stylistically, however, the film serves more as a vehicle for expressing the universal threats that armed conflict poses to civilian life.

Beyond the sporadic references to real-world events, the central focus remains on two characters trapped within the four walls of their newly acquired, expected-to-be happy home. This sense of confinement makes the story easily transposable to other military conflicts. It is precisely this claustrophobia that brings out the film’s strongest qualities, as director Zhanna Ozirna exhibits great care in capturing the stillness and quietude of the setting to heighten the prevailing sombre mood of the siege.

However, the film falters when its perspective shifts from the external conflict to the internal struggles of the couple. These tensions feel trivial and futile in light of their dire situation. This narrative turn culminates in upsetting behaviour and questionable decision-making by the characters in relation to their environment.