This was my first Hungarian film (and so my first time watching anything from Miklós Jancsó). I wasn't totally sure what to expect, but I've been loving the Eastern European movies I've discovered the last couple years - and honestly, I thought Silence and Cry was incredible! I don't think I've ever seen anything exactly like this movie. It's deceptively minimalistic on the surface, utilizing a small cast of characters and a few specific locations, but it's a heavy movie in content, and highly, highly stylized in its approach to filmmaking and storytelling. Almost exclusively working in long(er) takes, jump cuts, and kinetic cinematography capturing precisely-choreographed framing and composition, Silence and Cry totally subverts most of the visual grammar and storytelling sensibilities I've come across before. It's impressionistic in the way it paints character intentions and plot dynamics, but also highly expressionistic in the way it utilizes production design and performances to draw out every ounce of emotion and thematic significance from every frame. Even running at 77 minutes, the nature of the cinematography and editing makes this a not-so-breezy film, but Miklós Jancsó really crafted a fascinating, engaging experience that had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. This was a movie that plays with the way the viewer understands narrative and visuals, and I could feel Silence and Cry etching a bigger picture with each scene that went by, culminating in an intriguing, elliptical portrait of human terror in the face of fascism.