Should we believe everything we are told?
Thursday night the 54th edition of the International Film Festival of Rotterdam opened its doors for the grand public at the Oude Luxor with Michiel ten Horn’s Fabula: a crime-packed black comedy infused with elements of fantasy and folklore. Vanja Kaludjercic, Festival Director of IFFR, introduced the film with a speech about the way that cinema changes the way we look at life and relate to one another.
Divided in several chapters, Fabula follows Jos (Fedja van Huêt), a provincial criminal and self-proclaimed loser much like the generations before him. But unlike his ancestors, he is determined to get to the bottom of his family’s misfortune. Together with his brother Hendrik (Georg Friedrich), his son-in-law Özgür (Sezgin Güleç), and his father Lei (Michiel Kerbosch), he encounters a host of mysterious characters who bring him closer to the answers he seeks. But when a criminal dealing goes awry and one of the brothers disappears, the film leans into the relationship drama between the remaining family members. Fabula depicts the nuanced dynamics between Jos and the supporting characters as they evolve from suspicion to trust. Ultimately, Fabula suggests that being a family means being partners in crime, no matter the circumstances.
Previous to the screening, director Michiel ten Horn explained the many inspirations that sparked this particular story, the biggest of which was the location: Limburg. The region and its landscapes provide grounding for the magical and fantastical elements of the film, as well as for the criminal activity that sets the plot in motion. According to Michiel ten Horn, it was a challenge to balance these various elements, and to close the film with a smaller ending. Especially after having worked on it for eight years, with a larger than life magical narrative, it can be quite the task to return from absurdity to vulnerability. “Coming home a great player, with fortune and abundance,” as Jos would say.
Fabula is a fable, one that connects people in spite of misunderstandings. Its dialect and niche folklore, incorporating elements such as Carnival, the traditional dish called ‘vlaai’, and the protection of the village by train conductors, lighten the deeper themes of misfortune, drug abuse, and personal trauma, and instead make space for transnational cultural understanding. Whether the Limburgish dialect is practiced to perfection matters less when the viewer is brave enough to dive head-first into the mystery. Fabula’s absurdity makes it an Alice in Wonderland-style adventure with a loser called Jos in its midst. Fairytales used to teach the difference between good and evil, but Fabula is here to tell a new tale: “Good is not all good. Bad is not all bad.”