WhatzUp

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days
by Derek Neff

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

The only other Romanian film I’ve ever seen besides this one was the unforgettable 2005 drama The Death of Lazarescu. Lazarescu depicts the last night in the life of a sickly man who is taken by paramedics out of his cramped apartment, wheeled into an ambulance, then transferred from one inefficient and dimly lit hospital to the next as his condition worsens and as those around him seem to care less and less about his fate. I know it’s simple-minded to attribute a single definable “character” to an entire nation’s artistic output, but based on my experience of watching these two films I would say that Romanian filmmakers do seem to be peculiarly gifted at depicting Dante-esque descents into hell, unfolding in what almost feels like real time.

Where Lazarescu concerns itself with one man’s slow death over the course of a single night, 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days concerns itself with one young woman’s life over the course of about a day, as she struggles to arrange the details of an illegal abortion for her college roommate and friend. (The movie takes place in 1987, two years before the end of Nicolae Ceauescu’s repressive Communist regime.) The camera follows Otilia – although, interestingly, the handheld camera also occasionally hangs back as she continues on, as if to say, “This is so risky even we can’t follow” as she makes her way from one problem to the next, and as we increasingly feel for her situation.

Despite the movie’s depiction of illegal abortion as horrific and dangerous, filmmaker Cristian Mungiu isn’t interested in making an issue-based polemic. His straightforward, well researched depiction of life in Communist-era Romania speaks for itself.

Mungiu uses long takes, liberal amounts of ambient city noise (no musical score) and minimal editing. The movie starts slowly and builds its momentum patiently. Anamaria Marinca provides such a believable and naturalistic portrayal of Otilia that to call it a performance seems reductive. What we really begin to appreciate, the further into the picture we go, is the movie’s slow accretion of vivid, one-of-a-kind details. From life in the bleak college dorms, to the wedding party in the lobby of the motel where Gabita has her abortion, to Otilia’s endless search for her favorite brand of cigarettes on the black market, to (perhaps most impressively) the extended scene where Otilia drops in at her boyfriend’s parent’s apartment for a lively birthday party, director Mungiu displays a rare ability to meld the specific with the universal.

Otilia’s friend Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) is so meek and inept that Otilia spends much of the movie paying for her mistakes. In one especially disturbing scene she even compromises her own body and safety in a way that few friends would ever be willing to. And yet she stays by Gabita’s side. In a world where you must watch every step you take, and where waiting in line for several hours just to get a hunk of meat is a commonplace, Otilia knows the value of friendship, even if she does end up paying dearly.