Seventeen-year-old Adi (Ciprian Chiujdea) lives with his parents in a small rural town in Romania, not far from the Ukrainian border and the Black Sea, near the town of Tulcea. One evening, he shows up at home with a severely battered face, leaving his perplexed parents to investigate the violent incident, and ahead of the shambolic police officers in charge of the crime. It doesn’t take long before Adi’s father Florin (Bogdan Dumitrache) finds out that his neighbour’s two sons around the same age as Adi assaulted him, and that the two teens could face up to seven years in jail should the family decide to prosecute them.

It soon surfaces that the crime was motivated by homophobia, after the quiet Adi was found kissing a male tourist. The perpetrators barely hesitate before confessing the offence, defending their actions based on sheer hate of homosexuals. Same-sex affection is diminished to penetration: they shudder at mere thought that Adi could “get fucked up the arse”. Florin and his wife share very similar values, and reproach their only son for his dishonourable conduct. The knowledge that they have a gay son could do irreparable damage to the family, so perhaps it is best if they put the whole ordeal to rest. They can count on the support of the corrupt authorities, including the influential father of the two boys. The problem is that Adi is over 16, and the decision whether to seek legal action lies entirely in his hands. So the deeply conservative family takes matters into their own hands, aided by the local orthodox priest.

Emanuel Parvu’s third feature film is an astute study of the ignoble mechanisms of homophobia, and how they keep young people shackled to the ultraconservative paradigms of a fast-changing society. Romania is a secular nation, which legalised homosexuality nearly 30 years ago. Yet Adi’s family violently refuse to acknowledge the love that dare not speak its name. The worlds “gay:” and “homosexual” are never uttered throughout the entire duration of this 105-minute drama. Adi’s shy and non-judgmental friend Ilinca (Ingrid Berescu) is the only person that can provide him with emotional support.

This is a familiar story to LGBT+ people in many parts of the world, including the UK. There is no shortage of rabid homophobia in our rural backlands, and even in our big cities. Three Kilometres to the End of the World does not add anything new to LGBT+ cinema. What it does extremely well is to dissect the minutiae of oppression, and to paint a realistic picture of a widely-known type of hate crime. The language is extremely sombre and austere. The characters are often laconic. They communicate with silent, piercing gazes. At one point, Adi bravely faces the camera with his broken face still swollen, his left eye barely visible. In reality, he is facing the mirror. A subjective POV confrontation that invites audiences to step into the shoes of the protagonist, and to understand that the pain of breaking away from his conservative family can be as intense as that of his wounds.

The dialogues too are simple and effective: the priest explains that it’s ok to tie someone up “if it’s for their own good and the good of others”, with the Child Services officer promptly explaining that “it is ok to think whatever you want, but it’s not ok to do whatever you want”. It seems that, after all. there is a slimmer of hope in the Romanian institutions. Incidentally, this is the country that arrseted ultramisogynistic influencer Andrew Tate

The imagery is quiet and solemn, with static, long and medium shots conveying a sense of imprisonment and alienation. The performances are sullen and profound. It all gels together neatly, creating a jarring depiction of a closely-knit community united by their detestation of homosexuality. An honest and vivid portrait of lingering homosexuality in the easternmost borders of the EU. There is still a long way to go before Europe overcomes the living ghosts of the “traditional family” and religious intolerance.

Three Kilometres to the End of the World premiered in the Official Competition of the 77th Cannes International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. A film guaranteed to reach the LGBT+ film circuit everywhere, and a strong contender for small theatrical distribution in countries such as the UK. The UK premiere takes place in October, during the 68th BFI London Film Festival.