I knew nothing about Slovakian filmmaker Tereza Nvotová’s Otec (Father) going in, which was bad and good. Bad, because I almost vomited at around the 25-minute mark, I was so shocked, appalled and heartbroken by what happens—but good, because that moment jolted me into a battle about empathy and blame and guilt and survival. I wondered how the narrative would now unfold and was fascinated with Nvotová’s sensitive handling of the material.
The film opens in a manner that tricks the viewer into thinking they’re about to watch another average domestic drama. It’s a scorching hot day and we are privy to the morning minutiae involved in a father, Michal (Milan Ondrik) and mother Zuzka (Dominika Morávková) preparing for their busy day—but from his perspective. Michal goes for a run, showers, teases his adorable young daughter, Dominika. Both are running late. Zuzka asks Michal to please take Dominika to day care. He agrees. They prep the car; he places her in the new car seat they just purchased. He then drops her off at day care, waves to the teacher and drives off to work.
For the next six hours he sits in on meetings about what can be done to save the company he works for, and fields calls from his ex-wife and current wife, asking about new furniture. Zuzka calls back later in the day inquiring about where Dominika is–that she never made it to day care. He pauses for a moment and then rushes out of the building and to his car. What he finds is every parent’s worst nightmare.
This searing emotionally-compelling drama, inspired by real events, shows how one tragic mistake can instantly shatter the lives of those involved, but Nvotová delves deeper into notions of blame and judgment as well as responsibility.
The director, who co-wrote the screenplay with Dusan Budzak, employs somewhat long takes so we see things from the father’s POV. She’s imploring us to eschew the obvious anger and disgust we feel and try and tap into our empathy. So, it’s easy to initially think she tricked us by showing him dropping the child off at day care, but in his mind, he actually did. And it made me wonder if I had imagined that scene.
Michal suffers harsh judgment from his friends (mostly behind his back) and strangers, calling him a murderer at his eventual trial, but no verbal stones can harm him as much as his own feelings of guilt. This type of tragedy happens–too often. How is a person supposed to go on living knowing they were responsible for the death of their child?
Ondrik is extraordinary as a man who is destroyed by his unintentional actions. We feel his heartache.
Morávková keenly shows us her devastation, but also her feelings of confusion and compassion—and, in a late intimate scene between the two, her simultaneous desperation and hope.
The ending will not feel satisfying to those looking for some kind of definitive resolution. Nvotová is too clever to slap on some feel-good conclusion just to make her audience feel better. She is after something much more complex, and perhaps, elusive.
Otec (Father) is part of the Horizons section of the Venice Film Festival.
