Once this trio alone and basically isolated from the rest of the world (and more importantly, any prying law enforcement individuals), it is revealed what exactly is going on; Dragut is pregnant and needs an abortion, a practice outlawed by the government and one that is performed by people like Viarel Bebe at the risk of lengthy jail time. The consequences are grand for all involved, especially since, even in this secluded location, societal double-standards against women still carry on as Bebe has a tendency to treat both Otilla and Dragut like they're lesser than him. It's clear the hostilities of this society against women in particular cannot be evaded but that isn't going to stop Otilla from helping Dragut decide her own path in life, no matter the high risks involved in such an undertaking.
To tell this story of specifically female-individualism surviving in times of oppression, writer/director Cristian Mungiu has elected to tell this story via a methodical visual approach that has the majority of the movie told through long single takes that let the mood and atmosphere of individual scenes linger on the viewer. It's incredible just how much captivating visual storytelling is accomplished through the camerawork alone. A prime example of this level of high quality camerawork emerges in a scene late in the movie wherein Otilla is stuck at a dinner with her boyfriends family whilst Dragut is stuck at the hotel room alone in the middle of the abortion procedure.
Otilla is centered in the middle of the frame while her boyfriend and his family are moving around chaotically around. Otilla never makes a word, her mind in another place as she thinks and worries about her friend but al of the people around her are engaging in in-depth conversation, with what kind of roles and traits a "proper" woman is supposed to exhibit in society (most notably when he a lady at the table mentions that it's good Otilla doesn't have a alcohol because it's not right for women to drink booze) being a frequent topic that emerges in this dialogue occurring around her. The way the camera just lingers on Otilla as she's forced to endure all of this nonsense in stoic silence places one right in the middle of this dinner party with her.
The camera staying on Otilla for one extended shot means we too get no escape from this excruciating dinner party. It's a powerful sequence and it's far from the only instance of such thoughtful camerawork emerging in 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. An extended conversation between Otilla, Dragut and Bebe in the hotel room where the abortion procedure will take place in also gets a lot of mileage out of capturing the actions of in-movie characters in singular takes as the ever-escalating nature of aggravation of Bebe in this conversation really packs an intense wallop when the viewer is able to witness it escalate in basically real time with no cuts away to exterior environments or characters, a fascinating way to replicate for the viewer how Otilla and Dragut are witnessing Bebe's ever-growing sense of frustration.
Such masterful camerawork is accompanied by Cristian Mungiu's screenplay that is full of its own rich details too. The verisimilitude evident in the depiction of the everyday life citizens in 1987 Romania (the town this movie takes place in is never specified, an interesting choice that conveys the idea that this story could have occurred anywhere in the country) is fascinating, with little touches like citizens on every corner carrying cigarettes or bus passes so that they can hand them out to needy strangers gets across the idea of people having had to learn to work together to survive in this government without ever having any of the characters involved in such delivering expository dialogue that lays out this condition, thus maintaining the naturalistic aesthetic of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days.
The script by Mungiu offers plenty of well-written scenes of suspense that make great use of the aforementioned idiosyncratic camerawork, with the screenplay's unpredictable nature meaning one never really knows when potential disaster could be striking for Otilla and her roommate. It also means one never really knows when potential salvation could be around as seen in a clever moment where a man who seems to be following Otilla at nighttime turns out to be a helpful fellow in that he assists her in figuring out if there's any nearby public transportation she can use. That's what's amazing about this movie, there's so much thought put into it from top-to-bottom in even the tiniest detail, that's likely why it hasn't been able to leave my head ever since I watched it for the first time two days ago.
At the center of the entire motion picture though is a commanding lead performance by Anamaria Marinca who I'd wager is on-screen for about 96% of the runtime of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. Good heavens is Marinca excellent in this feature, she's got this fascinating and realistic version of a world-weary nature about her, in that you can clearly tell just from her offhand dialogue deliveries and casual body language how much she's had to persevere through over the years. That just makes the final scene of her and Dragut in the hotel cafe all the more devastating as a sense of pain is evident on her face. Trying to help her friend have some measure of control over her own body has left a toll on her but it's a toll she's all too familiar with. Anamaria Maginca is tremendous at making the aches and pain of her character engrossing and that makes her a perfect fit to headline a movie as outstanding as 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, a tour de force of a movie that made for both a great introduction Romanian cinema for yours truly and also just an excellent cinematic experience in its own right.
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