4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 days (4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile, 2007)

Ever since I saw this movie, there's one thing that really stuck with me. I love when movies make you think about aspects of a film that are usually taken for granted.  This movie does something that seems so simple, yet is incredibly effective.  

What it does is establish the tangibility of the objects onscreen.  Sure, that sounds like something that would have practical benefits to any movie, but how many of them actually take the time to do it?  Maybe here or there, in a scene where setting up a particular object's physicality is important (like a gun in a suspense film), but I can't recall another movie where I thought that it was one of the filmmaker's primary goals.  It's one thing to establish the physical space the characters inhabit, or have very meticulous compositions, but to actually give a lamp, a table, or a pack of cigarettes weight and presence all its own is really something.

The movie gets us thinking about this very cannily; by opening with the girls packing, taking stock of things, and then by having Otilia look to barter for other things they need.  Not only does it help put us inside the world, it gets us thinking about each individual thing.  How every one has a value, and ultimately can be considered a commodity.

One scene in particular really illustrates how subtle and crafty the film is.  As Gabita is laying in bed, and Otilia is sitting across from her, we are looking at the two girls from the perspective of the wall behind the bed.  We see the blank television screen, the ugly artificial flowers, the girls, a table, etc... and the motel room itself calls to mind one of those really ugly paintings that are on motel walls.  Then we realize we're thinking this not just because of the composition of the shot, not just because of the still life quality imparted to each object, but also because we're looking at it from the point of view of where one of those paintings would be hanging.  Then, a bit later, after Otilia speaks, and the weight of what she had to endure, in part because of Gabita's lack of planning and over-reliance on Otilia, but also just because that's the way the world works, sinks in, there is an offhanded comment "What a weird painting that is", and we see there is a painting right where we had been looking from.

How many movies would have done that the opposite way?  Had Otilia comment on the painting, and then show us the composed shot from its point of view?  Thus making sure nobody misses the parallel.  But here the director lets us come to it on our own, and so the line about the painting becomes a sly and ironic recognition, rather than a setup for something obvious and didactic.

Anyway, I am kinda losing my train of thought, but yeah, I haven't really stopped thinking about how good this movie is since I saw it last fall.