THE STORY – A factory worker in rural Bulgaria becomes her town’s first Covid case, unleashing a wave of blame and social ostracism. As the virus spreads, she faces mounting persecution from employers, coworkers, family, and neighbors.
THE CAST – Gergana Pletnyova, Todor Kotsev, Gerasim Georgiev, Anastasia Ingilizova, Ivaylo Hristov, Ivan Barnev, Martina Peneva & Ovanes Torosian
THE TEAM – Stephan Komandarev (Director/Writer) & Simeon Ventsislavov (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 109 Minutes
For many of us, the last thing we want to do is return to 2020. It was a time full of anxiety and fear, where an unknown disease was gripping the world and little information was known to prevent its spread. Panic set in quickly, followed by despair and anger, as our lives came to a standstill with very little hope of when the light would appear at the end of the tunnel. Although it may be difficult to recall such painful memories, it is intriguing to note that unprecedented times may not always yield novel interpretations of such events. Human instinct has always been inclined to act out when presented with challenging circumstances, meeting frustration with a lashing out and looking for others to blame. As uncomfortable as it is to revisit that tumultuous period, “Made in EU” presents a scenario that taps into all those deep-rooted concerns and exposes the real harm they ultimately cause.
In a small Bulgarian town, most people’s thoughts are not especially on the COVID outbreak that has just started to shake the global landscape. While there are reports of documented cases in larger cities on the outskirts, lax prevention methods are employed to ensure the garment factory remains operational. These directives include forcing their employees to work long shifts for little pay and in crowded spaces for hours on end. When Iva (Gergana Pletnyova) complains to the company doctor about her high fever and requests sick leave, she is denied her request, told to take an aspirin, and is instructed to return to work. However, her symptoms prove to be more than just the common cold. Her test results come back positive, and the spread of the virus throughout the community begins. When news reaches her that she may be the original source of the infection, everyone turns against her. Her friends, her coworkers, and even her son, Misho (Todor Kotsev), grow resentful of her. Iva is pushed to the outskirts and must find the resolve to persevere through this emotional torture.
Director Stephan Komandarev takes great care in evoking the fractured and anxious environment that existed five years ago, and immediately establishes that sense of isolation that would be instilled within all of us. Even before lockdowns and quarantines began, characters were often framed separately from one another, but off by a frame within doors or reflections in windows. Even in crowded areas, our protagonist sits in the background, implying a greater distance between her and everyone that surrounds her. The harsh lighting conjures even more dystopian imagery, with greyish hues contributing to the unpleasant atmosphere. The filmmaking doesn’t indulge in overly stylistic choices, but instead showcases a stark and bleak portrait that only intensifies when the gloom spreads even deeper. Komandarev crafts an engaging perspective that reminds us how quickly society can disconnect from its humanity when faced with untold tragedy.
The script from Komandarev and Simeon Ventsislavov is not nearly as successful at bringing these ideas to light. There is a simple morality tale at play, with this one woman fighting against unfair accusations that are meant to terrorize and intimidate her. While you feel an enormous amount of empathy, the narrative provides a character study without much nuance at its center. There are clear lines of right and wrong here, which ultimately limit the storytelling’s impact, with no ambition to become more complex. The story aims not only to expose the prejudices that can arise when such individuals are faced with these circumstances, but also to reveal that the root cause of it all is the result of unchecked capitalism that exploits a desperate workforce and shows little regard for their safety. No doubt it’s a rousing message, but it’s delivered so plainly without any intrigue. It’s representative of most of the writing, especially the news broadcast, which provides a convenient context for recently occurred events, albeit with the most dry delivery, making it nearly comical. There is thematic commentary being explored, but its depth is shallow and not as captivating as the more accomplished crafts utilized for the storytelling.
Most of the time, Pletnyova’s face is a stern fixture that is attempting to navigate her new surroundings with incredible difficulty. It’s a reserved performance that rarely indulges in grandiose outbursts or histrionic scenes, even though she is driven to the brink by the incessant harassment she is made to endure. It’s an impressive turn that anchors the film around a still center, necessary to combat the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm her at every turn. Kotsev is given the benefit of a character who goes through a whole growth, from hating his mother for delivering unto him a position that has stifled his own ambitions to one who wants to fight for her cause vehemently. He’s compelling as well, if a tad conventional in his portrayal of the familiar persona of a rebellious son. The rest of the ensemble is fine in their respective roles. However, Ivaylo Hristov deserves credit for his endearing screen presence as the lone doctor who takes a sympathetic understanding of Iva’s plight. His friendly demeanor is instantly soothing, and his screen presence is always an inviting antidote to the acidity of the film’s overall tone.
You feel an anger pulsing through “Made in EU” that can’t be ignored. A hot rage at those who seek to make a scapegoat out of a woman who did nothing on her own to bring about the inevitable spread of this virus. While the event itself was described as a rare happening, the reaction to it was all too familiar. It’s almost juvenile the way people retreat into simple understandings of the world and throw blame around as an outlet for their helplessness, and how powerful capitalists think plastering fake platitudes on a hospital wall is meant to compensate for their gross lack of consideration. These are engrossing thoughts, but when put into practice, they can reveal themselves to be restrictive in the depth of their thematic exploration. The simplistic narrative prevents this story from becoming more engaging, and the lack of nuance makes this effort somewhat enthralling but also slight at the same time. It doesn’t last nearly as long as those events that have collectively scarred our psyche those many years ago, but it’s still an absorbing, if fleeting, observation.
