A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Tuesday, After Christmas (Radu Muntean, 2010)

Mimi Branescu, Maria Popistasu, Sasa Paul-Szel, and Mirela Oprisor in Tuesday, After Christmas
Cast: Mimi Branescu, Mirela Oprisor, Maria Popistasu, Sasa Paul-Szel, Victor Rebengiuc, Dragos Bucur, Dana Dembinski Medeleanu, Silvia Nastase, Adrian Vancica, Carmen Lopazan, Ioana Blaj. Screenplay: Alexandru Baciu, Radu Muntean, Razvan Radulescu. Cinematography: Tudor Lucaciu. Production design: Sorin Dima. Film editing: Alma Cazacu, Cristina Hincu, Matei Ovejan, Andu Radu, Andrei Scutaru.

Tuesday, After Christmas has virtually no plot. It's more of a series of tableaus, scenes composed of long takes, as the marriage of Paul (Mimi Branescu) and Adriana (Mirela Oprisor) disintegrates under the pressure of Paul's affair with Raluca (Maria Popistasu). It takes place over the Christmas weekend, starting with the naked Paul and Raluca in bed, followed by scenes of Christmas shopping by Paul and Adriana, a visit by Paul and Adriana and their daughter to the girl's dentist, who is none other than Raluca, Paul's visit to Raluca in another city where she's gone to see her mother, climaxing in a scene in which Paul confesses the affair to Adriana, followed by their separation, and concluding with a terrifically uncomfortable Christmas dinner with Paul's parents, who are, like the daughter, still unaware of the impending divorce. It ends on a quiet note, a simple gesture in which Adriana hands a present to Paul behind her back. The film gets its forward drive from the performances, from the things the characters say -- and don't say -- to each other. It's a fly-on-the-wall movie, with the viewer stuck there uncomfortably watching things work out, tempted to flee but hypnotized by our own voyeuristic interest in the way things will go next. There's a theatricality to the film in Radu Muntean's use of long takes, each of which lasts several minutes, making us aware of the skill of performers who can't rely on multiple retakes to get a scene right, but it never feels stagy. Instead, it feels observed, which may be the film's strength for those who like to savor the moment as well as its greatest weakness for those who want an imposed significance.

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