Every four weeks, Maria leaves her small Romanian town and heads to Austria, where she is employed as a care worker for elderly people. Her life is split between borders and constant goodbyes, a transient emotional state vividly captured in Maria Lisa Pichler and Lukas Schöffel’s intimate portrait. In the opening scene, Maria drives along her local roads, pointing out the houses left empty by those who have moved abroad for work opportunities. Under the precarious forces of economy, it seems as if a whole community is gradually evaporating.
Structured around Maria’s monthly drives, the film juxtaposes her home life with her professional duties. Simple scenes of family gatherings bristle with tension. Maria’s son Ionuț laments her absence, which he deems to be a sign of emotional neglect. But as the primary breadwinner Maria takes on the gruelling job to provide a better future for her children. In another poignant parallel, we see her ageing parents whose ramshackle farmhouse contrasts sharply with the middle-class apartments of her Austrian clients. There’s a bitter irony in how Maria makes a living by caring for other people’s relatives, while unable to fully tend to her own.
Misunderstood by her loved ones at home and ostracised by anti-migrant rhetoric in Austria, Maria finds herself locked in an impossible paradox with no easy answer. The only people who can fully understand her predicament are fellow Romanian workers who, like her, live between worlds. The current reality of global wealth inequality further intensifies the cycle of separation. In a crucial scene between Maria’s teenage children and their friends, many have already spoken of migrating despite their deep love for their home country. While there are no easy solutions to the struggles of migrant workers, the film lends a beautifully human touch to a topic so often reduced to mere statistics.
