Retrospective: Hungarian Cinema 1956–2026

Rarely is the political history of a country reflected as directly in its cinema as it is in the case of Hungary. The revolution in late October 1956 marked a turning point that ushered in a golden age for Hungarian film. As 2026 approaches, the country once again faces profound change—not least due to the realignment of its political system following 16 years under Orbán. This serves as a fitting occasion to examine the traces left over the past 70 years on the cinema of our eastern neighbor—a body of work that remains far too little known in this country. Our showcase offers a contemporary perspective on political and artistic documents of their time: subjective, intimate observations of a society that, as an epicenter of radical upheaval, bears a dense legacy of intergenerational trauma—trauma in which the instability, and simultaneously the resilience, of the collective remains visible even decades later.

The starting point is Zoltán Fábri’s *Merry-Go-Round*, a powerful love story that, emerging in the year of the revolution, uses a striking cinematic language to herald a new era of artistic freedom. Shortly thereafter, swept up in the modernization fervor of the 1960s, new cinematic currents began to take shape in Hungary—spearheaded by Miklós Jancsó, whose signature style featured long, ritualized, unbroken takes. In the wake of the changes following 1968, filmmakers such as Márta Mészáros—renowned for her autobiographical “diary” trilogy—and the (re)discovered Judit Elek brought previously taboo subjects concerning women and the realities of their lives to the forefront. Meanwhile, directors like Károly Makk and Zoltán Huszárik sought refuge in escapist narratives, immersing themselves in personal, individual recollections. In the 1980s, the state supported auteur cinema only insofar as it served its external cultural image and did not offer overly overt criticism of the status quo. With the collapse of the socialist system, this role changed fundamentally: popular narrative forms and genre films made a comeback, while the tradition of auteur cinema persisted. Prime examples of this include the surreal, staccato-paced subway film *Kontroll* and Béla Tarr’s bleak, apocalyptic vision *The Turin Horse* (*A torinói ló*). Hungarian cinema frequently explores individuals grappling with a society whose rules are in flux: *Explanation for Everything* (*Magyarázat mindenre*), for instance, offers a sharp-eyed look at a deeply divided nation—a compelling cinematic document of a present-day reality in which political conflicts have long since permeated schools, daily family life, and personal relationships.
(Fruzsi Vajda)

This retrospective is presented with the kind support of the National Film Institute Hungary and the Collegium Hungaricum Vienna.