The tense and introverted ‘Moon, 66 Questions’ makes intriguing style choices ★★★★☆

She addresses him by his first name and talks about him as if he were a stranger. It says a lot about the enormous distance that has grown between Artemis in his thirties and her father Paris, the self-encapsulated main characters of the Greek drama. Moon, 66 Questions†

It is precisely Artemis (Sofia Kokkali) who has to move in with the extremely taciturn Paris and take care of him, now that he has been struck down by an aggressive autoimmune disease. She doesn’t seem to have a choice, as an only child: the whole family appoints her as a caregiver. Under their watchful eye, she practices with a physiotherapist how to lift and hold Paris (Lazaros Georgakopoulos) upright. As a daughter, the therapist says, Artemis has an edge over him. She can hug Paris since she is so close to him.

It is an impressive scene full of oppressive intimacy, because debut writer and director Jacqueline Lentzou also films it as an embrace. The camera stays close to the excellent protagonists, shoulder height and increasingly focused on Kokkali’s face. The horror at the practical but very uncomfortable touch, the sinking awareness of the situation: it all seems to pass by in Artemis.

It’s as tense as introvert Moon, 66 Questions can be seen on Mubi, the streaming service that focuses on adventure cinema. It’s a true Mubi movie, with its intriguing style choices and elliptical plot. The intense home care scenes are interspersed with faded home video footage from the 1990s, probably from the VHS tapes that Artemis found in Paris’ garage but cannot play without a VCR. “The tires are a bit like Paris,” Artemis muses. “He’s right in front of me, but I can’t see him.”

This also applies to Artemis herself: she can be seen or heard in every scene, but somehow escapes you. Kokkali portrays her as a young woman who also regularly misses contact with her Instagramming friends and who has many conversations mainly on her own, with imaginary conversation partners who are just outside the picture. Artemis seems to have her most carefree moment when she sprays Paris’ car and starts dancing wildly to the radio music. Even then, her face remains painfully serious, as if her rashness is as forced as caring for her father.

It is all the more poignant when the two actually experience moments of rapprochement and reconciliation. Maybe they find in Moon, 66 Questions even room for a hug that is a real hug.