Xavier Dolan's Heartbeats & I Killed My Mother

Is there anything as annoying to a teenage boy as the sound of his mother eating? Or the sight of her messily scoffing a cream bun, with a gob of jam at the corner of her lipsticked mouth? This is the immediately recognisable scenario at the start of Xavier Dolan’s feature debut, I Killed My Mother. Dolan was a 17-year-old former child actor, living in the Montreal suburbs, and struggling to make the leap into adult roles. So he wrote and directed one for himself, appearing as the spoilt gay teenager, Hubert, fighting against his exasperated, and admittedly very annoying mother (played by Anne Dorval). The film received three awards and a standing ovation at Cannes in 2009.

Last year, the prodigiously talented and, it’s got to be said, quite stunningly handsome, 21-year-old Dolan followed up his debut with another wonderful film, Heartbeats – which won the $60,000 Sydney Film Prize (2010). Heartbeats proves again that the young French-Canadian actor/filmmaker has a gift for rendering familiar emotions with panache and humour – this time it’s unrequited love and jealousy as two friends fight for the affections of a third. Dolan is shamelessly ‘arty’ yet always accessible and never pretentious. A simple narrative wends its way through colour, music, straight-to-camera monologues and gorgeous clothes (Dolan also takes on the costume design and editing himself). I can’t wait to see what he does next.

Heartbeats and I Killed My Mother will screen together at Melbourne’s ACMI 7 – 28 April. Heartbeats will screen at Sydney’s Dendy Newtown from 31 March. Both films will release on DVD in August.

Note: This column originally appeared in The Big Issue, #377.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

Love, Lust & Lies

In 1976 Gillian Armstrong was a fresh young filmmaker just out of school. Commissioned by the South Australian Film Corporation to make a documentary about what it’s like to be a 14-year-old girl, she made Smokes and Lollies, a portrait of three naughty working class girls. Kerry, Josie and Diana proved to be funny, honest and spirited, and so a series of films were made, following them at 18, 26 and 33. Now the girls are 47-year-old women, and in some cases, they’re grandmothers. It’s been 14 years since we last caught up with them, and this instalment proves to be highly entertaining and revealing – as the title suggests.

Comparisons are bound to be made with the British 7-Up series, and it’s true there are similiar voyeuristic pleasures in seeing lives fast-forwarded and rewound. But Armstrong is warm and generous, with a unique focus on love, sex and mothering. She’s never condescending, even as she charts lives that have been constrained by early parenthood and lack of education. The resulting film is a beautiful and inspiring tribute to family, and to the universal yearning to create a better life for one’s children.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review appeared in #354 of The Big Issue, Australian edn.)

To read my interview with Gillian Armstrong at the Australian Film Institute click here.

The Road

Cormac McCarthy’s bleak post-apocalyptic thriller The Road was a surprise bestseller – spare, tender and devastating. Here Australian director John Hillcoat (The Proposition) faithfully recreates that story for the screen. A father (Viggo Mortensen) and son (Kodi Smit-McPhee from Romulus My Father) wander across an America that has been destroyed by some unnamed disaster. Ruined cities and dead forests are devoid of life, and where life survives it’s in the form of cannibal gangs who hunt human meat.

Into this grey world the boy has been born, and now the dying father is teaching to him to survive as they head towards the ocean and perhaps some kind of salvation. The future of kindness, humanity and hope all rest on the boy’s half-starved shoulders. It’s heart-wrenching, and flashbacks to the boy’s dead mother (Charlize Theron) underline the fact that even good people give up on this wretched existence.

At times The Road is almost unbearably tense and yes, bleak. But the experience is a beautiful and rewarding one, heightening our sense of how precious life is, and what we may lose if we destroy the conditions of our existence. And yes, there is hope.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in edition #346 of The Big Issue.

Rochelle's Top 10 Picks for 2009

Here's my rather eclectic list, based on the fact that I didn't see nearly as many films as I should have. List compiled for The Big Issue Summer Edition #345. Only includes films that were given an Australian cinema release.


District 9 (pictured)

Most movies about alien ships landing on earth set the invasion somewhere in the vicinity of the White House – or certainly within the US. Much of the thrill of this (relatively) low budget sci fi adventure comes from seeing the action take place in the dusty grimy shanty-towns of Johannesburg, where the accents are all South African and the post-apartheid politics are complex. The aliens themselves are refugees. Their ship ran out of gas 20 years ago and now they live in segregated slums, serviced by Nigerian prostitutes, and with a disturbing penchant for cat food – cans and all. They look like a disgusting cross between lobsters and insects, and they’re nicknamed ‘prawns’. When a rather dim-witted human bureaucrat ,Wikus van der Merve (Sharlto Copley) becomes infected with alien DNA he finds refuge with the aliens and discovers his own heroism.

Directed by Peter Jackson protégé Neill Blomkamp, District 9 may not be the year’s most perfect film, but it’s certainly one of the most startling and original. Combining faux documentary footage, excellent CG effects and a central character whose journey reminds us of The Fly, it’s an exciting riff on themes of racism and xenophia.


Bright Star
True love has rarely been so beautifully evoked on screen as in this tale of the poet Keats (Ben Whishaw) and his romance with the sassy seamstress Fanny Brawne (Abbie Cornish). Visually glorious, Jane Campion’s return to filmmaking is simply sublime.

The September Issue
This documentary about the production of the September issue of US Vogue magazine is actually a portrait of two women: the legendary ice-queen Anna Wintour and the inspired art director, Grace Cossington Jones. The shallow world of fashion provides surprising insight into the nature of art, truth, beauty and commerce.

Disgrace
A pitch-perfect adaptation of JM Coetzee’s subtle and multi-layered masterpiece, this film sees John Malkovich in fine form as a disgraced middle-aged professor who flees the city to live with his adult daughter on her isolated South African farm. Directed by Steve Jacobs it’s deep, complex and surprisingly entertaining.

Samson & Delilah
This is certainly the most acclaimed Australian film of the year, and a surprising box office hit. Beautifully written, directed and shot by indigenous filmmaker Warwick Thornton it’s a tough love story about aboriginal teenagers in remote central Australia. Winner of this year’s Cannes Camera d’Or.

The Topp Twins: Untouchable Girls
Now in their fifties, Jules and Linda Topp are New Zealand’s famous singing, dancing lesbian twins. Involved in social justice and protest movements since their youth, this documentary shows them in all their wholesome home-knitted glory. It’s a joy to witness their cheerful good humour and their palpable sisterly bond.

Star Trek
JJ Abrams picks up the beloved franchise and runs with it, gleefully taking us back to a time when Kirk and Spock first meet as academy graduates. It’s a joy to see the familiar characters reinterpreted by hot young actors. A typically silly space opera plot is loads of fun, with Eric Bana as a seething Romulan villain.

Two Lovers
Joaquin Phoenix is at his best as a conflicted and troubled young man who can’t decide between two women. Tender, funny and true.

The Choir
Set in a harsh South African prison (South Africa seems the theme this year!) this uplifting documentary shows the transformative power of music as a charismatic choir master brings discipline and meaning into the lives of young prisoners.

Rachel Getting Married
Anne Hathaway proves she’s more than a fresh-faced ingénue. She trails tragedy and angst as a young woman who leaves rehab to attend her sister’s wedding. Directed by Jonathan Demme this is a small verite masterpiece.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

The Choir

A group of underprivileged people form a choir, their lives transformed by music under the guidance of a charismatic leader. Sound familiar? Well this isn’t the television series about the Choir of Hard Knocks. Instead, it’s a feature documentary following a group of prisoners in Johannesburg’s largest and harshest prison. Their choir leader is a fellow inmate, Coleman, jailed for 24 years for armed robbery. He’s a plump and balding middle-aged man, with teeth missing. He readily admits that his love of luxury is what got him to trouble. But here in the prison he’s a changed man, a mentor and disciplinarian to the group of singers, young damaged men, whom he grooms to compete in the National Prisoner Choir Competition.

Among the group is Jabulani, painfully thin and scarred by knives and bullets, and very very angry. He’s reluctant to submit to authority, and of course he hates being locked up in a place where there are 40 inmates to a cell, and two small meals a day. We hear of terrible violence, of an eye being gouged out by a broken lightbulb, and of men cooped up from 3pm every afternoon until the next morning, with very little supervision. When Jabulani tells of his poverty-stricken childhood, however, of being hungry and bored and hopeless, we see that life outside is not that much better.

Filmed over four years, with remarkable access, by Australian journalist and filmmaker Andrew Davie, The Choir begins as a simple though illuminating look at a prison choir working towards a singing competition. The format, if not the setting, is familiar, formulaic even: the backstories of the participants, the practising, the nerves and anticipation, the moment of performance and finally, the announcement of the winners. The film could have concluded at this point, and it would still be a fine documentary. But the beauty and power of it lie in the fact that it continues down the track, years after that climax. What happens to Coleman and Jabulani after they are released? Can they live in freedom without falling back into crime? What kind of place is South Africa these days, and what hope is there for children living in the shanty-towns of the major cities? Despite the harsh realities depicted, The Choir never loses hope, and reveals in a fresh way the human need to group together to create meaning and beauty in the midst of devastation.

The Choir had a limited (Aust) national release and will be on SBS TV and DVD later this year. A version of this review appeared in edition 331 of The Big Issue magazine.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

The Year My Voice Broke (21st Anniversary DVD release)

Set in 1960s country-town Australia, this is the coming-of-age film that made Noah Taylor a star in 1987, and it’s no wonder. As 15-year-old Danny, a boy in love with his best friend Freya (Loene Carmen), he’s a wonderful mix of sensitivity, awkwardness and sexual longing. He can strum his guitar, wear dark glasses and dangle a cigarette from the side of his mouth, but he’ll never be able to compete with the town’s bad boy, Trevor (Ben Mendelsohn in hyperactive mode) when it comes to getting the girl to fall in love with him.

Written and directed by John Duigan, the film is beautifully shot by Geoff Burton, who captures the spirit of a hot golden summer where childhood dies and adult realities must be faced. A soundtrack heavy with squeaky violin is the only real drawback. This 21st Anniversary DVD contains a number of extras, the best of which is a conversation between Duigan and his three stars, now all grown up but still deeply affected by their experiences of making this film about the ‘summer when everything changed.’

Rochelle Siemienowicz

The Band's Visit

‘Once, not long ago, a small Egyptian police band arrived in Israel. Not many people remember it – it wasn’t that important.’ So goes the unassuming blurb for this utterly charming and absolutely memorable little Israeli film, the debut feature for director Eran Kolirin. The story opens as the musicians – in fetchingly outdated powder-blue uniforms – arrive at the Tel Aviv airport. They need to catch a bus to a nearby town to play music at the opening of an Arab Cultural Centre. Due to various language barriers and scheduling mistakes, the band ends up in a desolate Israeli town, where there’s no cultural centre – and seemingly no culture at all, as the sexy café owner Dina (Ronit Elkabetz) laughingly tells them.

The band must spend the night waiting for the next bus, and they’re billeted out to various townsfolk. It’s the small moments of humourous connection and subtle miscommunication that make this film a treasure. Band conductor Tewfiq (Sasson Gabai) conveys a universe of sorrow in his solemn face, but there’s also joy. It’s clear that for him, music, however humble, is the answer and the consolation for everything.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

Smart People (2)

Professor Lawrence Wetherhold (Dennis Quaid) is a bitter dried-up academic, still grieving for his long-dead wife. He hates his gum-chewing students, and finds his colleagues insufferable. His one sympathiser is brainy teenage daughter Vanessa (Ellen Page). She’s a friendless Young Republican who thinks stupid people have no right to exist. The problem of course, is that these Smart People are completely clueless when it comes to love and life.

Enter Uncle Chuck (Thomas Haden Church). He’s Lawrence’s adopted brother, a shambling middle-aged stoner who needs a place to stay. He’s determined to corrupt his young niece. Adding to the disruption is young doctor Janet (Sarah Jessica Parker), an ex-student who still harbours a crush on the grouchy slouchy prof.

Directed by Noam Munro and nicely written by novelist Mark Poinier, Smart People is full of good dialogue and great performances – especially from the charismatic Haden Church. Unfortunately, the film is so good at setting up Quaid as an irretrievably damaged man, that it’s not believable when he finally submits to love. And the idea that an intelligent young woman would want to have his babies is frankly unconvincing.

Rochelle Siemienowicz (This review appeared in The Big Issue, #303)

Gone Baby Gone (2)

When a four year-old girl goes missing from her low-rent Boston neighbourhood, there’s a media frenzy. Gun-toting policemen stand helplessly around the empty house, without any leads to follow. It’s no wonder the missing child’s aunt turns to local private investigators Patrick Kenzie (Casey Affleck) and his lover Angie (Michelle Monaghan). They may look impossibly young, but they know these streets. They grew up here. And besides, when they meet the child’s cokehead mother (Amy Ryan) they know there’s more to the story. Reluctantly, the police chief (Morgan Freeman) and his experienced detective (Ed Harris) admit they can use the help.

Ben Affleck’s directorial debut is grimy, intriguing and soulful. Based on the novel by Denis Lehane (Mystic River), it’s a superior police procedural that’s constantly surprising, right up until the final haunting scene. Primarily concerned with the moral dilemmas of its central characters, the film creates a troublingly authentic world where children are constantly at risk – not just from random perverts or kidnappers, but from poverty, neglect and the sheer hopelessness of their rusted-out Boston suburb. And finally, here’s a detective who’s young, confused and not quite cool.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

Lars and the Real Girl (2)

When 27 year-old Lars (Ryan Gosling) announces that he has a girlfriend, his brother (Paul Schneider) and pregnant sister-in-law (Emily Mortimer) are overjoyed and relieved. Finally this lonely misfit – a man who flinches from all physical touch – has found someone to love. They’re less happy when they actually meet ‘Bianca’, who turns out to be a life-size anatomically correct silicone sex doll bought off the internet. They consult the wise family doctor (Patricia Clarkson) who advises them to go along with the delusion.

Director Craig Gillespie and writer Nancy Oliver (Six Feet Under) have created a gentle and compassionate film that transcends its tacky premise. Perhaps it’s a bit cowardly of them to keep the romance ‘chaste’, but then this film is really about tolerance and tolerance, as we see the whole town working hard to make Lars happy inside his fantasy. Gosling gives a brilliant tightrope-walking performance. His journey towards wholeness is never overstated and always mysterious. It’s a measure of the film’s success that by its conclusion we’ve come to accept Bianca as a real girl who might just get up and walk away.

Rochelle Siemienowicz,

The Secret of the Grain

60-year old Slimane (Habib Boufares) is an Arab immigrant living in a small port town in the south of France. Having worked at the local shipyard for 30 years he’s devastated to be laid off. He devises a plan to open up a small business – a couscous restaurant on a renovated barge. The chef will be his cranky ex-wife Souad, while his gaggle of grown-up kids will help. But the real assistant is Slimane’s step-daughter Rym (a luminous Hafsia Herzi) whose brash confidence and tenderhearted intelligence cut through all the red tape of French bureaucracy.

Tunisian writer-director Abedellatif Kechiche (Games of Love and Chance) takes his time (148 mins) to paint a rich ethnographic portrait of this large and conflicted immigrant family. There are long meandering scenes encompassing food, arguments and seemingly trivial chat. (One entire scene is devoted to the cost of disposable nappies.) Yet it’s this detail that gives the film its almost documentary power, and subverts any tendencies towards the ‘opening up a restaurant’ movie clichés. Quietly building to a sudden desperate crescendo, the film’s conclusion makes new sense of everything that has gone before.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

Bella

Jose and Nina work in a New York restaurant. He’s the chef and she’s a waitress. Together they walk out on their tyrannical boss. Over the course of the day they become friends, and catch the train out to a beachside suburb to have a big old Mexican feast with Jose’s parents. Along the way life-changing decisions are made.

Nina (Tammy Blanchard) is pregnant, you see. She’s got no money and she’s all alone in the big city. Jose (played by Mexican pop and TV star Eduardo Verastegui) can’t quite hide his good looks behind a shaggy beard, but there’s something tragic in his eyes. What is his terrible secret?

Winner of the People’s Choice Award at the 2006 Toronto Film Festival, Bella is a sweet, good-looking film with a gorgeous tinkly musical score and a pair of likeable leads. The script is undeveloped, tending towards soapy cliché. Still, the film paints a very pretty picture of melting-pot New York, complete with the colorful ‘ethnic’ family who cook spicy food together, say grace in Spanish, then drink and dance the night away. Overly familiar, yes, but still charming.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in The Big Issue, #298)

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Like a deep-sea diver trapped underwater, Jean-Dominique Bauby lived the last year of his life unable to move or speak. Only his left eyelid remained mobile, and using a system of blinks he dictated the memoir upon which this film is based. Directed by Julian Schnabel (When Night Falls), it’s a strange, beautiful and claustrophobic film, shot largely from the point of view of Bauby (Mathieu Amalric). The initial scenes are blurry and incomplete as Bauby struggles to bring into focus the sea-green walls of his hospital room, the roses in a vase, and the team of gawping medical specialists. As the film progresses, and Bauby’s imagination and memories roam free like a butterfly, the camera pulls back almost euphorically.

This isn’t an easy triumph-of the-will story. The scenes between Bauby and his father (Max von Sydow) are almost unbearably poignant. So too with his ex-wife (Emmanuelle Seigner) and their three children. Yet the film’s achievement is that it’s not pity we feel for this ‘locked-in’ man, but empathy – and a recognition that for most of us, there will come a time when consciousness outlasts mobility.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in The Big Issue, #297)

Night

When the sun sets the world becomes an entirely different place: exciting, romantic, dangerous, and mysterious. How do different people experience the hours between dusk and dawn? What does the darkness mean and how does it structure our lives? This documentary essay by Lawrence Johnston (director of Life and Eternity) attempts to tease out these ideas, combining interviews, spectacular cinematography and a lush symphonic musical score by composer Cezary Skubiszewski. Think Koyaanisqatsi or Baraka with a nocturnal theme. But where those films seemed coldly anthropological, this one feels warm and personal; pleasantly humane, and very home-grown.

Sometimes it’s a bit too ordinary. The musings and ramblings of unidentified interviewees on the voice-track seem banal, while interviews to-camera (you may recognize Bill Henson, Christos Tsolkias and Adam Elliot) work at odds with the ethereal visuals from director of photography Laurie McInnes. What lingers in the memory are the superb stop-motion sequences of stars, moons, fireworks and urban lightscapes – mainly of Sydney. Ultimately the film reinforces the fact that for all our fascination with the night, like cave-men of old, huddling round the campfire, we humans are really creatures of the light.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in The Big Issue, #297)

Juno

16-year old Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page) has a jaunty walk. She looks like a tough Little Red Riding Hood – jeans, sneakers, red lips, black hair. Swigging orange juice from a huge bottle, she saunters to the local store. Actually, she’s filling her bladder to take yet another pregnancy test. The results are a major bummer. One bout of sex with her dorky best friend Bleeker (Michael Cera) and now this. Forgoing a ‘smashbortion’, the unconventional Juno decides to go through with the pregnancy and give the baby up for adoption to a ‘perfect’ couple (Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman). Of course things don’t go exactly to plan.

This smart, sweet comedy from director Jason Reitman (Thank You for Smoking) and stripper-turned-scriptwriter Diablo Cody has already proven itself a critical and commercial success. The reasons are clear. The dialogue is whip-smart, packed with pop culture references and hilariously vulgar at times. Yet these small-town American characters are people you’d actually like to hang out with. Especially Juno. The hugely talented Page (Hard Candy) gives us a clever, wise-cracking teen who’s still soft and innocent enough to be confused by first love.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in The Big Issue, 28 Jan)

The Kite Runner

In 1978 Kabul, before the Russians, and before the Taliban, two young boys fly their kites in the clear blue skies of Afghanistan. Amir is the son of a wealthy intellectual, while his best friend Hassan is the son of the family’s long-time servant. The boys are like brothers until a single act of violence and cowardice shatters their bond. Fast forward to modern-day Los Angeles, where Amir, now a budding author, receives a phone-call summoning him back to strife-ridden Afghanistan to make amends for his childhood sin.

Based on Khaled Hosseini’s best-selling novel, this film covers epic emotional and physical territory. Director Marc Forster (Monster’s Ball) vividly brings to life the complexities of a history and culture we only know from sketchy news coverage. The backbone of the story, and its greatest strength, is the patrician father (Homayoun Ershadi) courageously adapting to life’s reversals, maintaining his dignity even as he serves as an LA garage attendant. Not so strong is the adult Amir (Khalid Abdalla), whose performance feels stilted and unnatural – though perhaps this is just the burden of shame he’s supposed to carry. Nevertheless, a beautiful and enlightening film.

Rochelle Siemienowicz
(This review first appeared in The Big Issue 14 Jan)

I'm Not There

You can read my review of this strange, baffling tribute to Bob Dylan over at Eureka Street magazine online. - Rochelle Siemienowicz

Boxing Day

Chris (Richard Green) is tough. You can see from the tattoos he wears all over his bare chest and muscled arms that he's hard man. And yet, as this film opens, he's cleaning the house and setting the table like an uneasy housewife. He's on parole you see, and he's trying to prepare Christmas lunch for his estranged family – his brother’s ex-wife Donna (Tammy Anderson), and her teenage daughter Brooke (Misty Sparrow) who calls him ‘Dad’. It's a strange damaged little family, and of course the afternoon will not run smoothly.

For one thing, there is the ‘mate’ who turns up on the doorstep trying to involve Chris in a drug deal. And for another, there’s the abundant Christmas alcohol singing a siren song in the fridge. The tension here is almost unbearable as temptation after temptation presents itself to this man who’s trying so desperately for redemption.

Director Kriv Stenders (The Illustrated Family Doctor, Blacktown) has made one of the best Australian films of the year with this ultra-realist low-budget drama. The script, written – or more accurately ‘improvised’ by Stenders and Green, is totally convincing with its authentic Western suburbs rhythms and cadences. The incidental Aboriginality of the central character is perfectly integrated and never forced or contrived. Even the digital camera-work, so rough and unbeautiful, manages to work with the subject matter – though one does hope for a steadier steady-cam and a bit of glare-management in Stenders’ next film. Nevertheless, Boxing Day sets the bar high for Australian filmmakers, showing what can be done with a digital camera a decent script and a handful of talented performers.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

Outsourced

Todd Anderson (Josh Hamilton) leads a bland life as manager of a Seattle call centre. Then he’s told that his job is being outsourced to India. If he wants to keep his stock options he’s going to have to go there and train the new workforce.

Cue Bombay’s heat and chaos, and an encounter with some dodgy ice confectionary. Still, Todd’s Indian hosts prove charming, and his new employees are quirky, resourceful and eager to learn the American accent. Sweetening the brew is the lovely Asha (Ayesha Dharker), a spirited Indian girl who’s not afraid to laugh at Todd and tell him that he needs to learn ‘the Indian way’.

Written by George Wing (50 First Dates) and directed by newcomer John Jeffcoat, Outsourced gently and humorously addresses our worst fears about globalization and the people whose voices we hear on the other end of the line; suggesting that if our third world cousins are this generous and enterprising, surely they deserve the work .Yes, it’s romantic comedy, and presents an almost too sweet view of the world, but it’s a colorful trip to a friendly place that’s well worth visiting.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

(This review first appeared in edition#291 of The Big Issue Australia, 5 November 2007)

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 4 Days

The winner of this year’s Palme d’Or at Cannes, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 4 Days is a grimly thrilling film about two young Romanian women trying to obtain an abortion. The film is set in 1987, in the dying days of Ceausescu’s Communist regime, when abortions are strictly forbidden, with severe jail sentences hanging over anyone who defies the State’s official ‘population increase’ policy.

But Gabita (Laura Vasilu) is a poor, single college student. She seems almost stupid with animal fright. She can’t think straight. She just needs to get rid of this growing ‘problem’. Luckily her room-mate Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) has a calm head on her shoulders – and a true loyal heart of gold.

The film begins slowly, as the two women shave their legs, argue about money, and perform complex negotiations to buy soap and cigarettes from black marketeers. If it’s this hard to get soap how hard is it going to be to book a hotel room in which to perform an illegal medical procedure? And what price will the abortionist himself (a chilling Vlad Ivanov) extract from these pretty young innocents? To complicate matters, Otilia’s boyfriend wants her to come to dinner tonight, to meet his parents for the first time. Buses must be caught in the dark, surly hotel porters evaded, and a fetus disposed of before midnight. It’s no wonder Otilia can barely force down her desert; she’s wondering if her friend is bleeding to death on the other side of the city. And when her boyfriend tries to score a quickie in the bedroom, well, it’s bad timing to say the least.

Written and directed by Cristian Mungiu (Occident), and lensed by Oleg Mutu (The Death of Mr Lazarescu), the film is a triumph of sober simplicity. Long single shots are utilised, with a colour palette that’s Soviet grey, reflecting the crumbling concrete of an oppressive State. Naturalistic acting, with the kind of short-hand dialogue that real people use, enhances the empathy we feel for these two scared girls as they inhabit their nightmare. And when it’s all over, you feel that you’ve lived it, been there, been afraid. So whatever your beliefs or feelings about abortion – or about Communism, for that matter – the success of the film lies in its ability to make us feel deeply for the plight of these women and their limited, life-threatening, essentially female choices.

Rochelle Siemienowicz

(This review first appeared in edition #290 of The Big Issue Australia, 22 October 2007)