Day 40: 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days

"We're never going to talk about this. Okay?"

There is a soft spot in my heart for films that challenge me, and I don’t entirely mean this from an intellectual level. More so, I like films that can make me feel uncomfortable, or uneasy. Films like Bergman’s “The Virgin Spring” or Kubrick’s “A Clockwork Orange” made me feel extremely uncomfortable in some spots, yet I relished the experience they gave me. Initially the discomfort I felt was due to the extreme subject matter that unfolded on screen, but once my stomach stopped turning with anxiousness, these films became very taut exercises in the unpredictability of life. When a film can do this, then they truly have the audience by the throat. It’s exhilarating for me to know that I’m watching a film that can go a variety of ways. One film that made me uneasy, aside from those mentioned above, would be the excellent Romanian film “4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days”. Written and directed by Cristian Mungiu, “4 Months…” is a provocative piece of cinema that challenges viewers to dive into the Communist abyss of Romania circa 1987. It’s a place and time where basic civil rights are nearly non-existent, so god forbid you get caught doing something the regime would deem unacceptable. With this social context in place, we can see that any character within this world faces an uphill battle. Yet things become a little more complex when we consider the film’s basic question: What lengths would you go to help a friend?

Already from this setup you can see and expect that a character will be finding themselves placed on a high wire act with no net in sight. The film starts out with two friends, who are also college roommates, planning for what we can only assume to be a weekend excursion. One of the girls, Gabita (Laura Vasiliu), is nervously waiting in her room, while her friend, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), is working her way around campus collecting a handful of materials from soap to money. Despite what we initially think, Otilia and Gabita are hiding something from us and those around them, as their quiet plans no longer resemble a weekend escape. Eventually, through revealing dialogue and interactions, we come to find that Gabita, played with much reserve by Ms. Vasiliu, is actually pregnant. But, things don’t end there. Gabita and Otilia  are actually putting in motion an intricate, but dangerous plan to get Gabita an abortion. As you can imagine, this is a pretty big no-no when it comes to Romanian law. In order to circumvent the law, Gabita and Otilia found an abortion practitioner with whom they’re set up to meet with in a hotel. Unfortunately, for Gabita and Otilia ,things  start to go wrong once they leave the friendly confines of their dorm room. From Gabita lying about her pregnancy term to hotel reservations being in flux, it’s clear from the beginning that Gabita and Otilia are in over their heads. Actually, I rescind that comment. It is Otilia who actually ends up being in over her head.

Otilia, played beautifully and fearfully by Anamaria Marinca, is essentially the backbone to the story despite the film being based around Gabita’s abortion. Mungiu's script sets us up for something we really don't expect because instead of us focusing on the abortion and Gabita’s perspective, we focus on Otilia's struggle. More specifically, Otilia’s struggle to bring herself to assist her friend in getting an abortion by any means necessary. Moment after moment, Otilia's friendship, love life, freedom, and morals are put on the line in the name of Gabita. Marinca does a wonderful job in the morally complex situations by letting her emotions subtly pour out of her face and through her body language. With each painful decision, we can see the anguish Marinca gives Otilia not only on the surface, but also deep down inside as Otilia’s character is pushed to great lengths. Because in the end it's Otilia who must cover up for Gabita's inaccuracies, it’s Otilia who must sacrifice her innocence and life in order to help Gabita fix her mistakes. Once again, Mungiu pushes us to ask, if we were Otilia,  would we sacrifice ourselves for a certain friendship? Within this question, Mungiu's script and direction is candid and authentic. This is all the more impressive because he creates the film’s intensity through dialogue and the use of suggestion. Many moments in this film can't be explicitly understood. In fact, most of the drama is made up from those little moments where we have to connect the dots or infer based on the information given to us. This can often make the events that happen become more unsettling and disturbing when we’re left to let our imagination ruminate on it’s own.

Amplifying ambivalent moments and giving the film a big dramatic push, is Mungiu's restraint in giving the film a conventional, dramatic score. What the film lacks in a typical orchestration, is made up in ample amounts of silence. With silence we can hear the fear, the anger, the desperation, and the hope in Otilia’s voice. From this silence, we can hear her breathing as she weighs her options and makes her weighted decisions. Mungiu's use of silence delivers a brooding tone that puts us right along with our characters, and often makes uneasy scenes rattle our souls long after they’re done. This notion is oddly, beautiful. Through what seems like never ending silence and morally complex situations, we find there are no easy answers, no black and white, no right or wrong. Instead Mungiu and company give us a film dictated on choices and the impact they will have on today, tomorrow, and years down the road. From the opening scene to the surreal and heartbreaking finale, Mungiu asks what would we do for a friend, or anybody else for that matter? What would we risk and stand to gain? Most importantly, could we look ourselves in the mirror tomorrow, the same way we did  today.