This fascinating, almost wordless combination of nature travelogue blended with murder mystery in a Hungarian village, unfolds with rather an "eye of God" viewpoint. A panoramic aerial camera shot zeros in on the surrounding countryside, and moves from the macro level of tidy farms and gardens to the micro level of extreme close-ups, capturing the tiniest details. All but unidentifiable in close-up, we see the skin of a snake, the wooly belly of a sheep or the colorful movement of a riverbed. The perspective then pulls back to reveal forms that are more complete. In like manner, and almost documentary in style, the collection of images begins to tell a dark story. Intensely visual, the close-ups explore the colors and textures of the local flora and fauna as well as the people. The sound and rhythm of an old man's hiccups (hukkle) pulls us into the mainstream of village life. Almost imperceptibly, it dawns that something sinister is afoot.

Intermittently, a policeman examines photos of death scenes, follows his suspicions, and slowly uncovers similarities that link them. Playing almost as folk mythology, but thoroughly contemporary and all the more chilling for the ordinariness of the backdrop, its unique style is riveting from the first frame. It's a cautionary tale of what a wife may do for her husband, things not covered in traditional marriage vows, and what happens to errant husbands. The unique style skips the usual storytelling structure of revealing motive or character, except what we ourselves impose on the inhabitants of this provincial village.

In place of dialog, there are other sounds, everyday sounds that suggest an underlying pattern and tilt us in the direction of the narrative. The closing of car doors, one after the other, in a firm percussive pattern signals an abrupt shift. Contrasting with the extreme close-ups is the alternating deep focus and time-lapse photography that makes us privy to the many levels of life going on simultaneously. Acutely disturbing, it catches a veneer of the mundane, of things you may notice casually from your front porch. Someone sees an old woman collecting Lilies of the Valley in a meadow as she sings. The screen filled by a piece of fabric being pierced by a sewing needle resembling the nose of a jet plane, that later appears and with precision flies under a small bridge. Like the developing police investigation, we are finding needles in haystacks and confronting the random yet arranged schemes that trap the innocent along with the presumed guilty. One fleeting image of a doorway hung with a curtain made of filmstrips reminds us this is a film, a contrived fiction. This simply adds to the allure of this unique drama that incorporates the microcosm of life with a bleak but memorable tale.