Police, Adjective (Wednesday, December 23, 2009) (207)

It is now clear that we are in the midst of a remarkable period of Romanian neo-realist film. In recent years, there have been a few Romanian directors who have released several remarkable films, each with their own individual subject matter, but each with a fantastic style and aesthetic that is totally fresh and remarkable in cinema. In 2006, there was Cristi Puiu's tragic The Death of Mr. Lasarescu; in 2007, there was Corneliu Porumboiu's bittersweet 12:08 East of Bucharest; in 2008 there was Crisrian Mungiu's frightening and frank 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days; and 2009 brought us Porumboiu's exhaustive and amazing Police, Adjective.

I'm not sure if there is a specific movement here per se, or if there is some sort of parallel evolution of style, but all of these films deal with reality in their country in the same, slow and pensive way. Each director uses extremely long takes with static shots and a minimal amount of cutting. Scenes take 15 or 20 minutes to develop as a standard and there might only be three shots in that period.

In Police, Adjective, beat cop Cristi is assigned to tail a high school student who is smoking pot after class with two friends. It seems that the police brass think that this kid can lead them to some big drug supplier into their town. As he follows the boy for days upon days, he gets more and more frustrated with the silly case and questions its value to his superiors. It's a very simple story, but this is not really about the narrative as much as it is an examination of post-communist Romanian culture and the texture of life in the country.

Porumboiu does a magnificent job here putting us in the bleak environment. Each scene in this film runs at least 15 minutes long and they are each composed of static shots that go on well past a point where it is comfortable to watch. The discomfort is what is amazing about this picture. You want to look away, but you cant. There is no score and what seems to be natural, dull, yellow lighting. The mundane qualities of the of each scene is what is totally beautiful about this film. There is minimal talking throughout, leading to a cold, isolating feeling - and when there is dialogue it comes in giant bursts like thunder.

In one scene, Cristi gets home from work and enters his modest flat. His wife is in the sitting room and tells him that his dinner is in the kitchen. He goes to the kitchen, gets a bowl of soup and some bread and begins to eat. As he eats, we hear a Romanian pop song being played by his wife on the computer. He eats the bowl of soup and then goes into the sitting room and sits next to his wife. This all takes about 10 minutes and is all one uncut shot. He then begins a long dialogue with his wife about the meaning of the song, getting somewhat silly about the imagery and symbolism the lyrics evoke. There is a definite Becket, Waiting for Godot element to this sequence.

The film also deals with the bizarre Kafka-esque elements of the bureaucratic Romanian police force and legal system. After intensely following the schoolkid around, Cristi goes to his office to write his report. Rather than have him read the report or have a character discuss the contents, we see the handwritten page onscreen and read it ourselves. It is an exhaustive listing of what we have just seen, and underlines the stupidity of his assignment. Seeing the report directly is an absolutely elegant touch that fits in perfectly with the tone of the film and brings us in even more intimately than we already are.

We then get two separate characters commenting on a small, inane spelling mistake in the report. There is a sense that even being as careful and detailed as he can be with minutiae, Cristi can never combat the vulcanized bureaucracy that pervades his culture. These moments are rather funny in their craziness and hopelessness - but it is clear that it is depressing to live amidst it. This discomfort is beautifully shown onscreen with the never-ending beige-gray interiors and graffiti-covered walls of the exterior around town. Everything is sad and overused and falling apart in this world.

Dragos Bucur plays Cristi beautifully as a smart cop who wants to fight back against the impossible system he finds himself in, but knows there's not much he can do about it. He is dejected as he comes to terms with his 'object-ness'. As the title suggests, he becomes less of a noun and more of an adjective. He's not a policeman, but a modifier of another thing. A 'police story', a 'police man'.

This is a totally magnificent, difficult film. It is one of the most thought-provoking works of 2009 and certainly among the best films of the year.

Stars: 4 of 4