n communist Romania, the law demands that parents have at least five children. If they’re unable to feed them, the offspring are handed over to state-run institutions – essentially, orphanages. In the event a child has a disability, they’re hidden away in specialty asylums for irrecoverable children. In the city of Sighetu Marmatiei, 300-plus youths are confined in squalor – dark, overcrowded, prison-like cells (it’s considered a hospital) with extremely limited resources and cruel, abusive caretakers.

Although the film presents a documentary vibe with its educational components, it’s largely a dramatized account of eight-year-old Izidor Ruckel (Iosua Barbu), who has a damaged leg. His affliction isn’t even determined to be genetic; it could be a mere long-standing, unhealed injury, which makes his incarceration even more abhorrent. The year is 1988, and Izidor is granted a rare opportunity to leave the facility for the first time to see the world around him; never before has he been outside. But the kindly nurse (Sarah Padbury) who offers to take him to her home is warned about allowing members of the public to see him too closely; citizens aren’t used to interacting with – or even seeing – handicapped children.

Opening with clunky animation (like a ‘90s video game) that segues into live-action – nicely complemented by upbeat, playful orchestral music and an unusually vibrant color scheme – “Izidor” reminds of an optimistic family film, particularly as the titular character gets to participate in pleasant childhood activities never before experienced. Strangely, with its incredibly morbid introduction, the transition to a cheerier, brighter environment is so extreme that it’s as if a completely separate production – perhaps mirroring the grand, joyous sequences from “The Sound of Music” before the harsher realities of Nazi encroachment cast a pall over the revelry. Here, the simple beauties of squeezing blueberries, caressing a massive wild mushroom, or delicately holding a small frog are nearly orgiastic wonders – alongside an orange sunset and a warm, homemade dinner, complete with sugar-dusted cake. Izidor learns, for but a moment in a fantastical setting, what it’s like to be a normal boy in a happy home.

But as the picture dwells on every routine, it meanders; for a short subject, reiteration is an impediment to effective pacing. Additional animation styles crop up, as do flashbacks (another utterly pointless inclusion). Although Izidor’s deprivation, then glimpse of a paradise, then return once again to crushing privation makes for a decent premise – with informational value as to the horrors of past, inhumane governmental policies – the organization and construction of his circumstances aren’t especially impactful. Despite a 30-minute runtime, details about Izidor’s remaining years at the institution, his eventual liberation, his actual medical conditions, and how he survived into adulthood (to tell his story for this artistic adaptation) are entirely absent. Like his brief foray into the larger areas of Romania, this production is nothing more than a peek into his early life, devoid of any information that would make his hard-won survival and perseverance cinematically inspiring or poignant.

– Mike Massie