Tuesday, After Christmas
Muntean's style is to use long takes. The opening shot is an almost eight-minute take of two lovers in bed, naked and snuggling in post-coital bliss. One is Paul, a somewhat rugged and older man. The other is Raluca, younger and blonder. All seems perfect for this couple, but we slowly realize that Paul is married to someone else.
The facts unfold slowly. Paul's wife is a lawyer, Ariana. They have a young girl who is getting braces. When Ariana insists upon visiting Paul and the girl on her dental appointment, we find out that Raluca is the dentist. As she explains the treatment to Ariana, the tension is thick, even though Ariana has no idea of her husband's affair.
Eventually Paul will tell Ariana of the affair and his intention of leaving her. This is another extremely long take, and displays some great acting. Mimi Branescu is Paul, and he and Ariana are sharing a typically mundane moment in the kitchen. Ariana (Mirela Oprisor) senses something wrong, but has no idea of the extent. Branescu, holding his coffee cup, takes a moment to decide that the time is now to confess, and you can see the thought process on his face. Oprisor then reacts, her world shattered, and, predictably, she is angry. She tells Paul that he is her greatest disappointment. Unlike other scenes of this type, for example Beatrice Straight's in Network (a scene which basically won her an Oscar) Oprisor doesn't yell, but instead eviscerates her apologetic husband with cold looks and quiet declarations.
The film then concludes with the two dealing with Christmas, as Paul's parents don't know of the breakup and proceed with the festivities as the two spouses suffer in silence.
Tuesday, After Christmas, is a small gem, a perfectly acted and tautly written film. Muntean's style, with long takes and few closeups, suggests a voyeur spying on the destruction of a family. I highly recommend it.
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