4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

Romania, 1987. A young woman in college, Otilia, helps her roommate, Gabriela, procure an abortion. From the first frame, focusing on a table bearing a fishbowl and a lit cigarette smoking in an ashtray, the decision has been made. What follows is their journey through the rest of the day dealing with the mechanics of getting an abortion -- finding a hotel, getting the doctor, payment, disposal -- in a totalitarian society where everyone fears everyone else, and decisions are made more by poverty and lack of options than a conscious choice.

Many people do not share my taste in movies. Over the years, I've noticed that the movies I like best, the ones that stick with me longer than others, tend to be foreign. They're not big budget, they're not necessarily trying to please a large audience, and they're not hampered by American morality or the subtle censorship of commercialism. I think it significant many of these films are at least R-rated. Among those that have stood out this decade are "Amores Perros," "Bad Education," "Y Tu Mama Tambien," "Head-On," and "The Best of Youth." Even among the English language films I've liked, "Children of Men" was British, "United 93" took place in America but was filmed overseas by a British director, and "Lost in Translation" took place in Japan. Another year of movies gone by, and yet again, the film that strikes me most -- "4 Months" -- is foreign, and it's far better than everything else I've seen this last year.

The whole project is infused with striking naturalism and realism. Every frame is full of consciously placed detail, the pacing allows the story to unfold naturally, and the actors are too good to look like they're acting. And with the same cinematographer as "The Death of Mr. Lazarescu," another great recent Romanian film, you have the sense everything is on purpose and by design.

The film also has more soul and emotion than any I've seen recently. "No Country for Old Men" left me cold, meaning empty. After it was over, I felt like I had seen a cool movie, but Tommy Lee Jones's ruminations on growing old and the times they are a-changin' didn't mean much. "4 Months," also, left me cold, but meaning terrified, disturbed, chilled. It's an utterly absorbing, exhausting journey with these two scared young women that takes them from one harrowing experience to another.

Many of the scenes involve a stationary camera lingering on actors, where what happens off-screen is as significant as what happens onscreen. Much of this is people talking and not doing much else, but it's absolutely gripping. But what remains after it's over is not the dialogue or what they said, but the images. For instance, after the girls have paid Mr. Bebe for the abortion, Otilia is primping herself in the bathroom mirror while Gabi cries off-screen. Otilia looks askance with sympathy and disgust. It's a searing image of loyalty and betrayal and pain. Later, at her boyfriend's house for dinner with his parents' friends, Otilia is the focus of the camera for a discussion that lasts about 7 minutes. They discuss religion, education, the younger generation, respect for elders, and Otilia sits there quietly. In the middle, the phone rings in the background. No one but Otilia notices. The camera doesn't move, but we see Otilia distracted, worried it's her friend and something's gone wrong. The phone stops ringing, the people are still talking, and the scene continues. It's a subtle moment that the verite-style film doesn't dwell on, but for the attentive viewer, it's heart wrenching. Later, there are two dark, surreal sequences of Otilia returning to the hotel and then leaving again with something, and all we see is very dimly lit streets, barely a light anywhere, and we hear her scared, quick breathing and dogs barking and glass breaking and people shouting. It's as action-packed as the film gets, and it's spendidly done, metaphorical as well as realistic.

Hitchcock had an idea of the MacGuffin, which is a plot device that doesn't mean anything, but is simply to propel the plot forward. For the first half of this film, I thought abortion might be a MacGuffin to expose the inner workings of this society, to show its dehumanizing effects on its citizens. But ultimately the film is about abortion. The body of the film focuses on how people obtain one. To the film's credit, Mr. Bebe comes across more like a complex product of his environment rather than a vampiric evil man (which isn't to say he's not a little of both). The characters don't reflect on the morality of the procedure until the end, and even then it's so subtle you can't divine what they think about it. But to pigeonhole this film as being about abortion would be to look past everything else it does to convey the experience of real life, immersing you in another world that you don't really want to see but are better for having seen, which is a quality of top-notch, perdurable art.

Those who do not want to know the ending should stop reading. I feel compelled to posit on its significance. Both friends are sitting down for a late dinner. Both are in frame and behind them is a wedding party. The waiter brings them a plate of meat, liver, marrow, and brains. They look at it, and we can't help but think of the baby. Neither can they, and they're silent. Gabi looks at the menu too long, consciously avoiding her friend. The tension and the distance between them is palpable. We start to see headlights on them and realize we, the camera, have been behind a window for this whole scene, and we feel even greater distance from the characters. Otilia then turns to look at us, but with a distant, glazed expression, an action that completely destroys the fourth wall and brings us back into their world. Then it cuts to black. And then you breathe a sigh of relief and want to watch it again.