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Rating:
The truth is that I no longer have the patience to watch movies. There you go.
However, the forced confinement took away all those pastimes I normally use to fill the voids, and so I couldn’t help but, even if only a little, watch something on the screen again.
I asked for recommendations from a little bit of everyone and that's how The Death of Mr. Lazarescu came up. I must say that the fact it was presented to me as a comedy didn't initially have the right effect, plus it was difficult to "find."
The film is Romanian; this was certainly a big plus for me. I don't know if any of you have had the chance to see the movies of Cristian Mungiu... well, it seems that this film by Cristi Puiu is the forerunner of this filmmaking style.
For those who are completely unfamiliar, it seems right to spend a few words about what is produced in Romania. The new Romanian cinema is the quintessence of an unexpected realism in which social themes typical of a state where a dictatorship left significant remnants, still unresolved today, are analyzed. This movement is called the New Wave, a definition indeed very controversial and not accepted by the directors themselves, as it would imply a whole set of rules that should be followed but in truth do not exist because the directors who somehow "adhere" to it do so to the extent that they simply tell stories of common people with low production costs, this too - I believe - not wanted but simply "obliged."
Mr. Lazarescu is a widower in his sixties who lives alone with his cats, though he looks much older than he actually is. His physical decay is well matched by the hygienic conditions of his city apartment in Bucharest; he drinks a lot and does not wash. He had surgery years before for an ulcer, and when one day he wakes up with nausea stronger than usual, he blames it on the surgery he had years ago. But the pain is real and increasing, so he decides to call an ambulance out of concern. We are in Bucharest, and it is Saturday evening, and on Saturday nights one should not disturb doctors; for this reason, it is uncertain if anyone will come to see him: he drinks and is never taken seriously by anyone. Even his neighbors, whom he approaches to ask for medication and out of fear of being left alone at that moment, accuse him of being an alcoholic and want to quickly dismiss him, despite the many hypocritical niceties offered.
From the moment he knocks on his neighbors' door, a night-time odyssey begins that fans of black comedy might find “amusing,” while for others it will simply unfold as a tragedy announced by the film's title itself. A person's alcoholism, which I understand as both a weakness and a disease, becomes the excuse to let a man die after humiliating him in every possible way by those who, regardless of his condition, should have done everything to save him.
The Romanian healthcare system has major flaws due to corruption, lack of medical equipment, and inadequate staff who nine times out of ten try to shift their responsibilities onto others. The disregard for the patient, in general, is emblematic, represented by the lack of privacy in the triage room where all patients are examined: they are separated only by a few curtains that often aren't even closed. The doctors insult everyone: patients, healthcare workers, nurses... a situation that would be unacceptable to us and in Italy would almost certainly result in a brawl; in Romania, it seems to be the norm. What I have read in various articles about the Romanian healthcare system confirms practically everything.
Actors of impressive vividness, the film is shot like a documentary. It starts off slow and almost light or at times deliberately repetitive in its absurdity, but in the end, it keeps you glued to your seat, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and at a loss for words. I couldn't fully define it, but I think it deserves attention.
Rating 8+ out of 10.
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