Iorda's credentials as a leftist were established at around the same time, when he published novellas for grownups, noted for their anti-elitist and anti-capitalist messages; on the cusp of World War II, he was also briefly a pacifist activist.

In September 1948, Iorda was reassigned to the National Theater Craiova; while there, he embraced Marxism-Leninism and Stanislavski's system, applying both to the reinterpretation of works by classics such as Ion Luca Caragiale and Nicolae Filimon.

During his final decade, he had a comeback as a cartoonist: relaunching Haplea alongside writer Tudor Mușatescu, in a "re-educated" version, he also presented his lifelong drawings in various art shows.

The future "Marin Iorda" was born in Bucharest, capital of the Romanian Kingdom, on 30 August 1901; his parents were Constantin and Comana Iordache,[1] who, by his own testimony, lived on "some godforsaken street on the outskirts".

[2] In 1912, the boy made his way into a cinema, and was fascinated by the spectacle, later skipping school, and braving increasingly serious punishments by his family, to see productions starring Charles Prince and Max Linder.

[7] Curator Eugenia Antonescu sees him as excelling as a portraitist and caricaturist, with sketches that depicted a variety of human faces—from anonymous Romanian peasants to politicians such as Marcel Cachin and writers such as Mihail Sorbul.

[13] Thousands of young readers were regular subscribers, and many of them wrote letters to Haplea, thinking that he was a real-life person; Iorda would maintain the illusion by replying back in-character.

[6] This account is partly contradicted by aviator Valentin Popescu, who recalled that he himself was steering the glider for a one-time demonstration—and that Iorda, as his only passenger, helped by carrying the bags of mail to the runway.

[24] Several of these claims were retracted the following month, with the newspaper commending Iorda for his work in outbidding efforts by the ethnic minorities, and explaining that the allegations came from a frustrated member of his crew.

"[4] As noted by Faifer, they mainly target the upper classes for their avarice, crudeness, and hypocrisy, while upholding the interest of the underclass and showing social marginals as the innocent victims of a system that despises them.

[1] He was briefly involved with the global pacifist movement, "manifest[ing] his worries as to Europe's destiny under the heavy clouds of war",[8] and in 1938 attended a Universal Peace Congress in Brussels, as a Romanian delegate.

[33] Called SOS a dispărut avionul stratosferic ("Mayday We're Missing a Stratospheric Airplane"), it had scientists from the IAR factories flying exploratory missions above the Southern Hemisphere.

[1] In mid-January 1940, another one of his radioplays, depicting events from Stephen the Great's reign, was performed on national radio by the Carlist regime's youth organization, Straja Țării.

[37] Under Ion Antonescu's dictatorial regime (1941–1944), Popa endured as chairman of the TMVB, now generally known as "Muncă și Lumină", with Iorda as his main stage director.

Iorda later revealed that the text was almost entirely his, but that he insisted Popa share writing credits for his quick copy editing; the play was then released with a royalty-free license, as the theater could not afford to pay them on each staging.

"[40] He was then also tasked with producing Romanian versions of Jean-François Regnard's Residuary Legatee[41] and Boris Borozanov's Tailor Prince,[42] as well as a "patriotic play" by Radu Ionescu and Nicolae Neamțu-Ottonel, called Cazemata voluntarilor ("Volunteers' Pillbox").

[44] Iorda also wished to return with a piece set during the Phanariote era in Bucharest, more specifically localized during the reign of John Caradja; it was called Cîntec de inimă albastră ("Singing the Blues").

It was done from Popa's script, reportedly written during a single night, with scenes being sporadically shot on location (mainly around Zărnești, Otopeni and Snagov) during early 1942, and again in late 1943.

[51] Critic B. T. Rîpeanu, who watched the unedited footage, argues that it was masterfully shot, but also that the acting was largely compromised by "theatrical tics", and that the film was misleading in its favorable treatment of the upper classes.

Immediately after Antonescu's fall, Iorda became a regular contributor to Sergiu Milorian's satirical magazine, Papagalul, which was connected to the Romanian Social Democratic Party (PSDR).

[55] He began by directing a version of Scapin the Schemer (starring George Proca and Mitzura Arghezi), as well as a number of plays by Marin Grigorescu (a typesetter who only wrote in his spare time) and by the PSDR-affiliated Ion Pas.

[59] 10.000.000 continued to be performed in theaters after the regime change, although, as Massoff argues, its message was not entirely "social"—the main protagonist, after winning the lottery, strives to become an industrial capitalist.

[65] In addition, Iorda was involved with the Mogador Cinema-Theater, which had him directing John Millington Synge's Playboy of the Western World (translated into Romanian by Petru Comarnescu).

[65] The company then ran Molière's School for Wives, Yevgeny Petrov's Island of Peace, Eugène Scribe's Glass of Water, and Ilya Ehrenburg's Lion in the Square—all of which had Iorda as director.

"[71] His participation in the cultural life of Iași saw him embarking on various other collaborations: on International Workers' Day 1948, his play Pitpalacul ("The Quail") was performed by both the TNI crew and the local troupe of the People's Theater.

[76] Also then, he joined other authors in establishing a Craiova branch of the new Writers' Union of Romania (USR), serving on its leadership committee alongside peasant Crăciun Fotache.

[77] Its paper Caetul Literar hosted his poem about the communist hero Vasile Roaită,[78] while "workers' artistic teams" took his Pitpalacul into Dolj's countryside, to propagandize among the landless peasants.

It was welcomed by critic Ștefan Augustin Doinaș, who was impressed by his managing to convey the similarities and differences between Rebreanu's bitter work and that of Caragiale, his more lighthearted predecessor and model.

[1] His early work there included a version of Victor Eftimiu's fairy-tale play, Înșir'te mărgărite—panned by critic Florian Potra as uncharacteristically bad for Iorda's proven talents, with "not one moment of poetry".

[94] In old age, Iorda still found praise among the community of writers, with communist playwright Aurel Baranga suggesting that he was something of a "weird inventor" in Romanian art and letters.