4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

A while back I raved about The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, noting in particular how despite the bleak portrait of a bureaucracy which bogged the sick and dying down, the film depicted how consistently the humans the doomed Lazarescu came upon connected with him, fell into rich and personal conversations with others around them–in short, how the community’s compassion and connections thrived despite, around, underneath this oppressive system.

4 Months… is the flipside: here, the pervasive systemic bureaucracy and oppression manifest in each person and every interpersonal interaction as an inability to connect, breakdowns of trust, persistent lying, an endless struggle out from under or around rules both large and trivial. There are moments of compassion (a kitten given powdered milk, a bus rider offering a ticket to a freeloading passenger as the official comes around seeking proof of payment), and the film is centered on a roommate going above and beyond to help her roommate get an illegal abortion. But even that central act of compassion is marred by anger, frustration, lies, and–ultimately–a wall between the two women. The final scene (I’m giving nothing away) sits on the two, having endured much, sitting at a restaurant table, one pondering the menu, the other staring out the window–a shot held, silently, for an uncomfortable, meaningful stretch. This film is rather brilliantly done, again in the Lazarescu mode of a fly on the wall, the acting so naturalized, the scenes often playing out in a dazed and difficult real-time. But it’s harrowing, gripping, draining.

I’ve now seen 3 of the films of what some are calling the Romanian new wave (also including 12:08 East of Bucharest), and they are as dazzling and exciting as A. O. Scott raved (in an article to which I’ve linked under the Lazarescu post). I’m kind of fascinated at how a very common stylistic sensibility emerges, despite quite distinct tones: long takes, very precise production and composition yet a filmmaking style that resists showy technique, acting so subtle and precise it seems unacted, and an investment in (or even a reinvigoration of) social realist concerns.