Director(s): Corneliu Porumboiu. Screenplay: Corneliu Porumboiu. Cast: Mircea Andreescu, Teo Corban and Ion Sapdaru. Distributor: Tartan Films. Runtime: Rating: NR.
Winner of the Camera D'or at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival, Corneliu Porumboiu's first feature, 12:08 East of Bucharest is, furthermore, proof of Romania's budding as a cinematic powerhouse; it ranks among The Death of Mr. Lazarescu as one of the finest films the country is yet to release so far—and much more is on its way, including Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days, which won the Palme D'or at this year's Cannes Film Festival. A superficially light affair that is sly, light and wry in essence, 12:08 East of Bucharest gains heft as it goes along, willfully possessing a cachéd wit. The film starts with various establishing shots of Vaslui, a small, calm Romanian town only waiting for trouble. It is after this, that one meets the egotistical local talk show host named Jderescu (Teo Corban), who, after all his primary guests canceled, is forced to invite Manescu, a seemingly innocent drunk (Ion Sapdaru) and Piscoci (Mircea Andreescu), a wise, sympathetic yet kid looking old man who is wittier than the whole town, to answer one question: was there, or was there not, a revolution—against Ceausescu's communist regime—on December 22? A film in which everything is cannily significant of something yet does not over do or blatantly dramatize everything, 12:08 East of Bucharest is a simply told gem, characterized by wise humor told through extremely well developed characters; it's also the type of film that gains steam as it goes along: its opening, much like Gus Van Sant's recently seen Last Days, is often frustrating, yet it's there for a purpose; it establishes issues of race, town-issues, characters, and most of all, Porumboiu's perfectly realized aesthetic.
Half way through the film—when the men blabber on the talk show—is when the acuity begins: as the men discuss the question, they start to contradict eachother; callers complain about whether or not the truth is being told; Pisosci drifts away, both in talk and wit; Manescu threatens to leave the show; Jderescu's egotism almost costs him his reputation—and all of these, as hilarious as it is, are perpetuated by the amateur cameraman who fails to competently use his three tripod-aided set-ups. Porumboiu uses all of this to his cannon, ultimately brining hilarity to a new level.
An embarrassment of riches that ranks among the year's best so far, 12:08 East of Bucharest is a masterful trifle that uses hilarity perpetuated by unmistakable pathos to a superlative level. Ending on a deeply resonant tone, 12:08 East of Bucharest's final shot is exactly where it commenced—just another piece of brilliance for a film already overwhelmed by such an aspect.
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