12.08 EAST OF BUCHAREST (Romania/France, 2006)Wednesday, 27th January 2010In 1973 David Robinson published a short history of World Cinema but all that he had to say about Romania was that it had a director in Ion Popescu-Gopo born in 1923 who had made both animated films and live-action comedies. Until recently any updated version of the book would probably have had little to add, but in the last three or four years films from this country have stirred up interest around the world. It has not been a case of one notable film-maker emerging but of several, and in particular in addition to Corneliu Porumboiu’s 12.08 East of Bucharest one should mention Cristi Puiu’s The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (2005), Cristian Mungiu’s 4 Months, 3 Weeks , 2 Days (2007), the late Cristian Nemescu’s California Dreamin’ (Endless) (2007) and Radu Muntean’s Boogie (2007).
If the Eastbourne Film Society has been rather slow in bringing a Romanian work to our audience, it has been because some of these pieces have been decidedly grim, while others were exceptionally long and at least one film, The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, impressive though it was, combined both of these characteristics. Fortunately, while no less Romanian in flavour, 12.08 East of Bucharest is both of standard length (89 minutes) and a comedy – although this last statement should at once be qualified by saying that it is a comedy that treats serious themes, a fact that makes for a work of substantial interest. It is a first feature following prize-winning shorts by the writer/director Corneliu Porimboiu and it won for him the Camera d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 2006. More recently his new feature shown at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, a work with the unusual title Police, Adjective, won the Un Certain Regard Jury Prize.
At the heart of 12.08 East of Bucharest is a concept that has featured in many a comedy, a situation in which someone seeks to control things but finds that everything is getting out of hand. In this case the man who finds himself out of his depth is Virgil Jderescu who lives in Vaslui and hosts a programme for the local television station. At Christmas in 2005 he plans to present a special edition of this programme with distinguished guests who will look back on the occasion exactly sixteen years earlier when the country’s dictator Ceausescu had been deposed and had fled from Bucharest. Unfortunately for Virgil, he finds that those whom he had wanted to appear are refusing to make themselves available and, since this only becomes apparent at the last minute, he has to act out of desperation in finding substitutes among the locals. One that he selects is a history teacher, Manescu (Ion Sapdaru), who would seem suitable, although he is a man who drinks. Even more of a gamble is old Piscoci (Mircea Andreescu) who is now retired and whose usual appearances before the public occur when he is asked to dress up as Father Christmas.
Although Virgil has a female assistant, Vali (Cristina Ciofu), it is an unusual feature of this film that it contains no lead role for a woman, while the men featured are such that there’s no part for a young male actor either. But the characters involved provide a view of Romania which stresses the idiosyncrasy of individuals who belong to everyday life and in doing this the film is very persuasive. Of course, if the TV station were better established, one might question the basic set-up in which these substitute guests are brought in without being properly primed as to exactly what is expected of them. But the fact that this is a local station means that one can accept this and also believe in the problems that arise during the live transmission. Early on it might seem that Virgil’s attempts to discourage one of his guests from his habit of folding paper while he is in front of the camera would typify his difficulties. But, in fact, such details soon seem small beer indeed when those phoning in start to question the version of events on that day in 1989 that these guest speakers are putting forward.
Porumboiu through both his writing and his unshowy direction presents his characters in a manner that creates a warm-hearted tone. There’s no sentimentality here but something not far removed from the sense of humanity that was such a feature of the work of the late Indian director Satyajit Ray. This would seem to be in keeping with the initial impression that this film is essentially a modest piece and content to function as such. But, just because of the sympathetic tone established, we find that there is a real sting to it when one of the main characters makes disturbing remarks of a kind that might be expected to emerge, if at all, only from a person saying something in his cups. Equally surprising, though, is the realisation that comes to us in time that 12.08 East of Bucharest despite its lack of self-importance is actually commenting seriously – one might even say profoundly – on issues of some importance.
When asked to provide their memories of the day when Ceausescu was forced to flee, the invited guests want to give a good impression of their own part in the events of that historic occasion. Those who call in on air to dispute their assertions are by implication impugning the integrity of these speakers, a fact which makes it even more difficult for Virgil to maintain control. But more than issues of personal vanity are at stake here. The fact is that the debate which arises as to the time when events occurred in this town east of Bucharest involves a difference in the history of Vaslui. If the public protests on that day took place before 12.08 as Manescu claims, then that town can claim to have been in the vanguard and to have had true revolutionaries among its citizens, but if those who challenge are right then the citizens were doing no more than expressing solidarity with those in Bucharest who had already brought about the departure of Ceausescu.
The various inconsistencies that are revealed as the programme continues keep the comic element in the film alive and well, but this sequence of events also provides food for thought. History, after all, is frequently crystallised in the recall of events and, however modest this film’s scale may be, it does illustrate very clearly how consciously, or indeed subconsciously, the memory of individuals functions in ways that can be highly subjective. We remember what we want to remember. It’s also possible to view the comic chaos in this film as an ironic comment on the great hopes for Romania which were born out of the defeat of Ceausescu but, be that as it may, the thesis central to it is that the truth about past events is often rendered elusive due to the way in which memories of those events are coloured by the personal agenda of those who either write about them or, as here, discuss their part in what took place. 12.08 East of Bucharest gives us a view of life in a country unfamiliar to many of us and provides us with a quietly humorous entertainment but it also raises important questions in a manner that is quite rare in comedies.
Programme Note by Mansel Stimpson.
