Ioana Bugarin in Miracle (Film Movement)

After a novice nun leaves her convent, a police inspector attempts to piece together what happened to her and why in Miracle, Romanian director Bogdan George Apetri’s absorbing drama that’s divided into two mirrored, and equally compelling, sections. In the first, Cristina (Ioana Bugarin) leaves the convent and catches a ride into town. She has an appointment with an OB/GYN at a hospital and then gets into another cab for the ride back to the convent, but is brutally assaulted by the driver.

The second half introduces Marius (Emanuel Pârvu), a local police investigator who is tasked with solving the case. He retraces Cristina’s steps—speaking to the convent’s Mother Superior, visiting the hospital where he speaks to her doctor, tracking down and grilling the cab driver—steadily and doggedly finding out the truth of what occurred that day by whatever means possible.

Miracle can be enjoyed as a straightforward police procedural in which a crime committed in the first act is solved in the second. But there’s far more complexity to Apetri’s film, beginning with his subtle writing and direction. For example, there are signs that Cristina and Marius’s relationship is far removed from being simply victim and detective, which Apetri intentionally muddies when he makes sure to reveal the wedding band on Marius’s finger in a couple of shots as well as a glimpse of his loving wife and children.

Visually, the entire film comprises only 42 shots, far less than what most contemporary movies are composed of. Apetri’s compositions—expertly realized by his accomplished director of photography, Oleg Mutu—are painstakingly structured, often lengthy, languid shots that take the measure not only of the characters within the frame but also the very concept of time passing, of actual life happening before our eyes.

This is especially true of two masterly shots that mirror each other at the end of each half. In the first, a breathtaking 360-degree pan encompassing Cristina’s assault in the woods also encompasses how life and nature continues. (Special mention must be made of the rigorous sound design, which in this sequence makes one think they are seeing more than they really are.) This is connected to the simply remarkable 16-minute shot in the same location later on, as Marius attempts to get the cab driver to confess. As it is throughout, the choreography of the camera is virtuosic without calling attention to itself as it follows the investigator through his prepared paces.

After getting a phone call with some pertinent information, Marius sees a shadow in the muddy water. This glimpse allows him to find it within himself to accomplish what he needs to do in his investigation, and by extension, his personal life. Whether or not this brief apparition is the actual miracle of the title, there’s no doubt that Apetri has made a miraculous film that explores the duality of humanity, from the bestial to the spiritual.