"12:08 East of Bucharest" is a droll Romanian comedy that deftly examines how the citizens of that country look back on one of the pivotal events in their nation's history.
The movie takes place 16 years to the day (December 22, 1989) after the Communist government, led by Nikolai Ceausescu, was overthrown in that country. Now, Jderescu, the host of a local TV talk show, is hoping to commemorate that anniversary by examining what role his own town might have played in that seminal event. The issue Jderescu hopes to settle is whether a revolution actually took place in their town or whether the citizens simply waited till it was "safe" - i.e. after Ceausescu had already fled the scene by helicopter at precisely 12:08 PM on that fateful day - before venturing out in protest. Jderescu has chosen to have two "common folk" guests on his show to discuss the matter - an alcoholic history teacher named Manescu, and a cranky retired old man named Piscoci. Manescu at first tries to pass himself off as a hero, claiming that he and a group of friends headed over to the town square before the downfall of the government, but conflicting testimony from some of the callers to the show begins to call into question the truthfulness of his story.
"12:08 East of Bucharest" feels a bit like two movies combined into one. The first is a casually paced, noncommittal look into the everyday lives of three citizens of this town. We see Jderescu having breakfast with his wife, making phone calls to re-confirm the guests for his show, and spending time with his mistress, a beautiful young reporter at the station where he works. Manescu struggles with a hangover from the night before, visits the bar to pay his tab, apologizes to a Chinese merchant he insulted while drunk, and contends with a bunch of recalcitrant students who would much rather be setting off firecrackers in the hallway than learning about the Romanian Revolution (though they all seem to know about the French Revolution well enough). Meanwhile, Piscoci divides his time between fighting with his television set and buying a Santa Claus suit for an upcoming children's party at which he's been asked to perform. Writer/director Comeliu Porumboiu has filmed this section almost entirely in medium and long shots with virtually no close-ups or cutting within scenes. The advantage of this naturalistic approach is that it allows the scenes to play out in what feels like real time, while the disadvantage is that it distances us somewhat from the characters, making it harder for us to identify with them and the things we see them doing.
Still, this section helps us to better understand why a man like Manescu might feel compelled to place himself center stage at an event of such profoundly historic magnitude. Perhaps it affords him the opportunity at long last of being an active participant in history, rather than a mere teacher of it. We all create new identities for ourselves, Porumboiu seems to be arguing in his film, for who among us wants to be known as nothing more than a face in the crowd, a person ground down to nothing by the prosaic realities of our humdrum existence? Heck, even Jderescu, the talk show host, is finally unmasked on-air for the mere textile worker he was in the years before the revolution. Apparently, personal reinvention is not something exclusive to movie actors and rock stars anymore.
However, it's when we get to the talk show itself that the movie truly begins to engage our interest. As caller after caller deflates Manescu's attempts at making himself out to be the hero he probably wasn't, we get the sense that Porumboiu is implying that the issue itself may not even be worth debating all these years later. Just because Manescu and his fellow unarmed citizens didn't risk their lives by confronting the Communist military doesn't make them bad people. Still, there's no denying that Manescu's appearance on the show brings to the surface a whole host of feelings on the part of the general populace regarding the part each of them played in the revolution. By opening up this dialogue, the movie, I imagine, serves a healing function for the Romanian people. What matters for the rest of us is that the movie raises these issues with so much genuine humor and compassion that the dilemma becomes instantly recognizable for viewers the world over.
The movie takes place 16 years to the day (December 22, 1989) after the Communist government, led by Nikolai Ceausescu, was overthrown in that country. Now, Jderescu, the host of a local TV talk show, is hoping to commemorate that anniversary by examining what role his own town might have played in that seminal event. The issue Jderescu hopes to settle is whether a revolution actually took place in their town or whether the citizens simply waited till it was "safe" - i.e. after Ceausescu had already fled the scene by helicopter at precisely 12:08 PM on that fateful day - before venturing out in protest. Jderescu has chosen to have two "common folk" guests on his show to discuss the matter - an alcoholic history teacher named Manescu, and a cranky retired old man named Piscoci. Manescu at first tries to pass himself off as a hero, claiming that he and a group of friends headed over to the town square before the downfall of the government, but conflicting testimony from some of the callers to the show begins to call into question the truthfulness of his story.
"12:08 East of Bucharest" feels a bit like two movies combined into one. The first is a casually paced, noncommittal look into the everyday lives of three citizens of this town. We see Jderescu having breakfast with his wife, making phone calls to re-confirm the guests for his show, and spending time with his mistress, a beautiful young reporter at the station where he works. Manescu struggles with a hangover from the night before, visits the bar to pay his tab, apologizes to a Chinese merchant he insulted while drunk, and contends with a bunch of recalcitrant students who would much rather be setting off firecrackers in the hallway than learning about the Romanian Revolution (though they all seem to know about the French Revolution well enough). Meanwhile, Piscoci divides his time between fighting with his television set and buying a Santa Claus suit for an upcoming children's party at which he's been asked to perform. Writer/director Comeliu Porumboiu has filmed this section almost entirely in medium and long shots with virtually no close-ups or cutting within scenes. The advantage of this naturalistic approach is that it allows the scenes to play out in what feels like real time, while the disadvantage is that it distances us somewhat from the characters, making it harder for us to identify with them and the things we see them doing.
Still, this section helps us to better understand why a man like Manescu might feel compelled to place himself center stage at an event of such profoundly historic magnitude. Perhaps it affords him the opportunity at long last of being an active participant in history, rather than a mere teacher of it. We all create new identities for ourselves, Porumboiu seems to be arguing in his film, for who among us wants to be known as nothing more than a face in the crowd, a person ground down to nothing by the prosaic realities of our humdrum existence? Heck, even Jderescu, the talk show host, is finally unmasked on-air for the mere textile worker he was in the years before the revolution. Apparently, personal reinvention is not something exclusive to movie actors and rock stars anymore.
However, it's when we get to the talk show itself that the movie truly begins to engage our interest. As caller after caller deflates Manescu's attempts at making himself out to be the hero he probably wasn't, we get the sense that Porumboiu is implying that the issue itself may not even be worth debating all these years later. Just because Manescu and his fellow unarmed citizens didn't risk their lives by confronting the Communist military doesn't make them bad people. Still, there's no denying that Manescu's appearance on the show brings to the surface a whole host of feelings on the part of the general populace regarding the part each of them played in the revolution. By opening up this dialogue, the movie, I imagine, serves a healing function for the Romanian people. What matters for the rest of us is that the movie raises these issues with so much genuine humor and compassion that the dilemma becomes instantly recognizable for viewers the world over.