I found myself deeply disturbed by 4 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days. Yes, because it’s graphic in its display of the abortion act, but also because every scene and every character seems cold, hidden, and hard. Granted, Romania in the 1980s certainly lacked soft edges, but the manner of the film’s stark cinematography and the abrupt dialogue and actions of the characters regularly stunned me. Right down to its hard, unremarkable ending, I struggled to find a corner in this film where I could grieve for characters who were clearly suffering, but had grown used to hard lives and grim choices. Yet, hidden beneath its rough exterior, this film poignantly captures something of true friendship — the laying down of one’s self for the sake of another.
Special credit belongs to Anamaria Marinca, who plays her character Otilia with a remarkable blend of calm and business-likeness in spite of the fury clearly brewing beneath her skin. A truly breathtaking performance that probably deserves a second viewing, if only a person could suffer watching this film another time. Much like Vera Drake, 4 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days makes a compelling argument for why abortion is not a solitary choice and often has a profound impact on one’s community.
While watching this film was an eye-opening experience for me, and as much as I’d like to recommend that all teenagers see this film, I realize it’s a difficult film better suited for art house theaters than a classroom or a lazy Friday evening after a long week of work. For those interested in the subject matter or who are looking for something completely different from American movies, I encourage you to consider this finely crafted, somber piece of European cinema.
