This film is set in a small Romanian city on December 22, 2005, the 16th anniversary of the downfall of the repressive communist regime of Nicolae Ceausescu, which technically occurred at 12:08, just after noon, on the same date in 1989. Virgil Jderescu (Teodor Corban), an entrepreneur who has prospered in the post-revolution free market era and now counts the local television channel among his assets, decides to devote his personal talk show today to commemorating the anniversary of the week-long revolution. His guests are an old, white maned and bearded, much beloved pensioner, Mr. Piscoci (Mircea Andreescu), known for his annual Santa Claus appearances over the years, and Professor Manescu (Ion Sapdaru), a seriously alcoholic local academic historian.
Virgil poses the question for discussion: did the people of this city participate actively in the revolution or not? The answer turns on whether locals were agitating against Ceausescu by demonstrating in the town square before the announcement of his downfall, or, instead, whether people merely came out of the woodwork afterward, when it was safe, to coattail on the revolutionary triumph courageously brought about by others, in Bucharest and elsewhere in the country.
The last hour of the film presents the talk show episode in real time, and it is as good as the very best of briefer political sketches in the salad years of Saturday Night Live. Virgil is the unctuous host, trying to satisfy his guests and the contentious viewers who phone in to criticize the discussants on live audio feed. Old Mr. Piscoci offhandedly, almost reluctantly, acknowledges that, yes, he was present on the scene in the square that morning, and no one challenges this. You get the sense that this fact, like everything in his life, is no big deal. In fact, he seems thoroughly bored with the proceedings and spends his time making paper boats and what look to me to be cootie catchers from notepaper on the table where the three principals sit.
Prof. Manescu on the other hand, nursing an especially foul hangover, asserts with all the pride he can muster under the circumstances that he certainly was present, calling for Ceausescu's scalp, in the hours leading up to the moment of capitulation. A woman phones in to state point blank that Manescu's lying, that she personally saw him drinking in a nearby tavern until well after the moment that C. stepped down. A male caller, whom Manescu had accused on the air by name of being a member of the Securitate - Ceausescu's thug police - who hit him during a scuffle in the square, admits that while it's true that he was a Securitate agent at that time, and that he was on duty in the square, because of those very facts he can vouch for the previous woman's assertion that Manescu was nowhere to be seen until later in the day. Manescu responds by first defending himself, then trying to elope from the station during a commercial break. He's brought back and spends the latter part of the show in a silent funk.
The TV station itself smacks of our familiar local cable access operations. A single staff person, an indifferent, skinny young man, runs the camera, mans the phones, helps Virgil chase after Manescu, and reaches his arm across the table at one point to sweep away Mr. Piscoci's paper boats. The whole show is steeped in dark, understated humor, with, of course, serious subtexts about false claims of political glory and the larger issue of whether anything worthy of the term revolution really occurred in Romania, or at least in their town, i.e., whether most people in Romania are better off today or not.
I'd love to give the film an "A" grade, but it is compromised by a creaking, protracted, confusing beginning: the first half hour is devoted to scenes in which each of the three principals, in their apartments, is awakening for the day. These scenes are shadowy; it's even hard to decipher who's who for a while. However, these scenes do serve to establish the fact that life for the characters other than Virgil is not very good, perhaps little better than before the revolution, if that. This film won the Camera d'Or Award for best debut feature last year at Cannes. My grades: 8/10 (B+) (Seen on 01/31/07)
Virgil poses the question for discussion: did the people of this city participate actively in the revolution or not? The answer turns on whether locals were agitating against Ceausescu by demonstrating in the town square before the announcement of his downfall, or, instead, whether people merely came out of the woodwork afterward, when it was safe, to coattail on the revolutionary triumph courageously brought about by others, in Bucharest and elsewhere in the country.
The last hour of the film presents the talk show episode in real time, and it is as good as the very best of briefer political sketches in the salad years of Saturday Night Live. Virgil is the unctuous host, trying to satisfy his guests and the contentious viewers who phone in to criticize the discussants on live audio feed. Old Mr. Piscoci offhandedly, almost reluctantly, acknowledges that, yes, he was present on the scene in the square that morning, and no one challenges this. You get the sense that this fact, like everything in his life, is no big deal. In fact, he seems thoroughly bored with the proceedings and spends his time making paper boats and what look to me to be cootie catchers from notepaper on the table where the three principals sit.
Prof. Manescu on the other hand, nursing an especially foul hangover, asserts with all the pride he can muster under the circumstances that he certainly was present, calling for Ceausescu's scalp, in the hours leading up to the moment of capitulation. A woman phones in to state point blank that Manescu's lying, that she personally saw him drinking in a nearby tavern until well after the moment that C. stepped down. A male caller, whom Manescu had accused on the air by name of being a member of the Securitate - Ceausescu's thug police - who hit him during a scuffle in the square, admits that while it's true that he was a Securitate agent at that time, and that he was on duty in the square, because of those very facts he can vouch for the previous woman's assertion that Manescu was nowhere to be seen until later in the day. Manescu responds by first defending himself, then trying to elope from the station during a commercial break. He's brought back and spends the latter part of the show in a silent funk.
The TV station itself smacks of our familiar local cable access operations. A single staff person, an indifferent, skinny young man, runs the camera, mans the phones, helps Virgil chase after Manescu, and reaches his arm across the table at one point to sweep away Mr. Piscoci's paper boats. The whole show is steeped in dark, understated humor, with, of course, serious subtexts about false claims of political glory and the larger issue of whether anything worthy of the term revolution really occurred in Romania, or at least in their town, i.e., whether most people in Romania are better off today or not.
I'd love to give the film an "A" grade, but it is compromised by a creaking, protracted, confusing beginning: the first half hour is devoted to scenes in which each of the three principals, in their apartments, is awakening for the day. These scenes are shadowy; it's even hard to decipher who's who for a while. However, these scenes do serve to establish the fact that life for the characters other than Virgil is not very good, perhaps little better than before the revolution, if that. This film won the Camera d'Or Award for best debut feature last year at Cannes. My grades: 8/10 (B+) (Seen on 01/31/07)