4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is a drama starring Anamaria Marinca, Laura Vasiliu, Alex Potocean and Vlad Ivanov. Directed by Cristian Mungiu
Have you ever been stuck in a one-way relationship with a so called friend, one in which you feel you give and give with little gratitude in return, yet you still care for them, almost beyond reason? Christian Mungiu’s Palme d’Or winning film is multi-layered and touches on many themes, including abortion and life in Romania during the oppressive final years of the Ceausescu regime. However, at its core is a simple tale of an uneven friendship between two young women, where one does all the giving and the other, casually and ungratefully, does all the taking.
The setting is Romania in the late 1980s. Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) wants an abortion, which was then illegal under Ceaucescu. She turns (and, we suspect, she has often) in desperation to her roommate Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) for help. Otilia does help to the point that, as Roger Ebert pointed out in his review “she does everything but have the abortion herself.”
The film is primarily about Otilia and the incredible sacrifices and risks she takes for her friend. Otilia has to raise the money for the abortion. She, not Gabita, has to go meet the black market abortionist in a seedy neighborhood. When Gabita carelessly forgets to book a room at the hotel the abortionist specified, Otilia has to finagle her way into a room at a different hotel. At this point, it is a wonder that Gabita is able to get herself across town to the right hotel. Finally, since Gabita did not follow his orders, the abortionist, a gruff, menacing figure named Mr. Bebe (Vlad Ivanov) almost cancels the arrangement. It is at this point that Otilia makes yet another degrading sacrifice, all for her friend.
There is an attempted abortion in this film. These scenes, like the whole movie, are filmed in an unsparing, direct and cold manner. There are few edits in this film and few to no camera movements or odd angles. There is also no score. Each scene is filmed as unblinking and nonjudgmental as possible. Each character is judged by his or her own words and actions.
Such a style is beneficial in dealing with such explosive subject matter as abortion. Remarkably, while the film would unlikely change the mind of anyone on one side or other of the debate, I think both those pro-choice and those pro-life could justifiably find substance for their arguments in this film. For those pro-life, the film does not try to whitewash what occurs during an abortion. It is shown as bloody, degrading, painful and merciless. For those pro-choice, one can argue passionately that the women would never have been compelled to take such risks and basically place their lives in the hands of Mr. Bebe if the procedure were legal (and it is likely that even the unthinking Gabita would have sought out the procedure much sooner than at 4 months into her pregnancy [2 months longer than she initially told Mr. Bebe, by the way]). The film stays nearly as objective as possible on this issue.
What is not objective is the film’s portrait of Otilia, the all too human, self sacrificing heroine. She is constantly being pulled in one direction or another, if not by Gabita, then by Otilia’s boyfriend Adi (Alex Potocean). On the night of the abortion, Adi demands that Otilia show up at his parent’s house across town for his mother’s birthday party. Even though she tries to get out of going (without telling him the truth), he is insistent. In many ways, Adi is similar to Gabita: if Otilia does not give in to their wishes, it is a sign of disloyalty.
Otilia grudgingly agrees to leave the bed-ridden Gabita in order to meet Adi’s parents and soon finds herself seated at a crowded dinner table with a room full of strangers. This dinner party scene is the most powerful and effective scene in the film and is extremely well acted by both Marinca and Protocean. The camera focuses on a medium close up of Otilia. Arms reaching for food and cigarette smoke cross in front of her and loud vocal exchanges occur across her. She says little, but is clearly agitated, like a cat ready to spring. She desperately wants run out of there and go back to check on Gabita, yet she knows she can’t (to make matters worse, she has to endure some casual insults from Adi’s in-laws when they find out the “common” occupations of Otilia’s parents). Adi sits quietly behind her, stewing. He knows she does not want to be there and is embarrassed and hurt. It is doubtful this relationship lasted.
Without giving away the ending, there is a scene at a café where the two women decide never to talk about what happened. Gabita casually opens and starts to read her menu while Otilia stares at her, incredulous.
I must admit that I did not like Gabita. She is a selfish, careless, silly child-woman who has seemingly gone through life by having others do all the heavy lifting for her. That she would have such a cavalier attitude about her own abortion is not surprising. She is ungrateful towards Otilia and the extraordinary sacrifices Otilia makes for her, as if they were expected. I took some small comfort in that last look Otilia gives her. Maybe she is realizing that Gabita’s friendship was not, nor ever will be, worth the trouble.
This film’s abortion subject matter and setting are perhaps what drew initial attention, but again, at its heart is the story of an unequal, yet very plausible friendship between two women. Maybe Otilia wised up and moved on from Gabita. Maybe she never will. Sometimes you can’t explain why you value someone’s friendship so much; you just do.
Subtitles/Captions:
English
English for the hearing impaired
Spanish Subtitles
Extras:
A documentary on a traveling tour of this award winning film through Romania (Romania has few movie theatres and many small villages are without one. A crew carried the film to these small villages for special screenings).
One on one interviews with the director and cinematographer.