TUESDAY, AFTER CHRISTMAS
Directed by Radu Muntean
Produced by Dragos Vilcu
Written by Alexandru Baciu, Razvan Radulescu, Radu Muntean
Released by Lorber Films
Romanian with English subtitles
Romania. 99 min. Not Rated
With Mimi Branescu, Mirela Oprisor & Maria Popistasu
 

Paul (Mimi Branescu) is in love with his daughter’s dentist, Raluca (Maria Popistasu), and he decides to tell his wife, Adriana (Mirela Oprisor), about it and break off the marriage. An alternate title for this film could be One-Shot Scenes from a Marriage. From the unflinching opening, in which we see a post-coital Paul and Raluca lying in bed together, director Radu Muntean’s camera rarely cuts, allowing us not a moment of reprieve from these folks’ passions. Though the camera usually pans back and forth across rooms, there are only a few scenes in the entire film consisting of more than one shot. Not only is this a compelling story, but the technique is likewise something to note as well.

The Romanian New Wave is alive and well in Muntean’s fourth feature with all of the typical traits: long takes, naturalistic lighting and sound design, and a deliberate removal of melodrama despite a moving story. This last maneuver is the product of economical filmmaking, something this group excels at. It may not have beautiful cinematography, but this movement definitely has a smart visual sense, guiding us through familiar territory as if it were actually happening before us. Filmmakers like Chantal Akerman, or more recently Albert Serra (Birdsong, 2009) or Lisandro Alonso (Liverpool, 2008), for instance, employ very lengthy sequences where the camera barely moves, while guys like Muntean or a famous influence of his, countryman Corneliu Porumboiu, don’t waste any precious screen time in their own extended scenes. (Paul, in a small homage, reads off the back of a DVD of Porumboiu’s 12:08 East of Bucharest.)

This telltale Romanian style is not so much a style but more a means to a greater end—the end being engaging storytelling. While a lot of these maneuvers feel downright conceptual, there’s no denying the content. Tuesday, After Christmas is no exception. In a perfect example of where technique meets humanism, watch for one of the most devastating sequences you’ll ever see when Paul finally breaks up with his wife. It’s a heart wrenching, nearly 10-minute, one-take scene in which these actors spare nothing. I’m talking Cassavetes territory, for sure. What’s more, for the 10 minutes without one edit, the audience isn’t allowed a chance to recoil. We’re actually witnessing something here, or at least that’s the feeling this kind of filmmaking gives us.

These directors end their movies exactly when they want, don’t they? In this case, the final scene feels like it breaks slightly from form. The scene has several cuts and happens in several rooms at the same time. Between love and infidelity, Muntean has explored topics familiar to us, but he seems to provide a lot more questions with Tuesday’s conclusion than answers. Again, it’s a blend of style and content. By allowing the film’s structure to slip away a little bit in the end, we in the audience get a sense of the film’s life outside the frame and the capacity for further stories within the world it depicts. As economical as the direction may be, there are still answers to be found. Michael Lee
May 25, 2011