Tuesday After Christmas (2010)
Tuesday After Christmas (ROM) Directed by Radu Muntean Written by Radu Muntean; Razvan Radulescu; Alexandra Baciu Starring Mimi Branescu; Maria Popistau; Mirella Oprisor; Dragos Bucur; Sasa Paul-Szel
Arising out of a country that has given us 2005s The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (Cristi Puiu) and 2007s 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (Christian Mungiu) comes Tuesday After Christmas, director/co-writer Radu Muntean’s simple, self-contained story about Paul (Mimi Branescu), a married banker having an affair with his daughter Mara’s (Sasa Paul-Szel) dentist Raluca (Maria Popistau). Muntean uses long, extended takes and - with the exception of slight tilts and pans - very little camera movement (and, for that matter, editing) to allow the film to unfold as if we are simply observing life unfold before us. In fact, the scenes usually play out in a single medium or wide shot. Paul kids with his girlfriend in bed, talks on his cell phone, shops with his wife, disciplines his young daughter, but through the mundane depiction of events a conclusion is building as Paul’s convenient little set up seems destined to end. The wonderful thing about the film is that none of the characters are at all polarized. Paul seems to be a rather ordinary guy with a decent sense of humor, graying, forty-ish, a little overweight. His average if pleasant looking wife Adriana is of the same general age. A working mother, she is busy, concerned about their daughter, immersed in their collective existence. The object of Paul’s affection, Raluca, is also seemingly a nice enough person, much younger, though no great beauty; not overly demanding of Paul, but clearly tired of their arrangement and wanting more. On the whole, Paul’s marriage seems ordinary, but (with the exception of his infidelity, of course) his relationship doesn’t overtly appear to be in major trouble. The set up is one we all know to be true to life - the older married man leaving his age appropriate wife for a younger woman, but here the story is told with such raw honestly that if feels as if we are watching real time emotion on display. What’s interesting about Muntean’s style though is that his search for documentary-like realism does not include an attempt to mirror the form of documentary through verite methods, but rather involves simply allowing actors to behave truthfully in front of a static, unobtrusive camera. Particularly notable is Mirella Oprisor, who brings a heartbreaking vulnerability and humaness to a woman realizing the life she has constructed is crumbling.