克里斯汀·穆基
齐奥塞斯库被处决的时候，68年出生的克里斯汀·穆基（Cristian Mungiu）还是一个大学生，学习的是英语文学专业。毕业后任职教师和记者，大概是心里有太多东西需要叙述，后来他选择了电影，入读布加勒斯特电影大学。
他最初的三部长故事片都是讲述齐奥塞斯库时期罗马尼亚人压抑的生活状态，他叙事风格简练，风格写实，感情内敛到几乎不动声色，事情再残酷也不过多着墨，尽管是在21世纪拍片，但色彩犹如黑白片一般，黯淡古旧。
大概就是这种风格打动了嘎纳电影节，他在2002年拍的第一部故事片《幸福在西方》（Occident）就获法国人青睐而入选，07年第二部故事片《4月3周又2天》（4 luni, 3 săptămâni și 2 zile）获得电影节最高大奖金棕榈奖，英国卫报称他为“令人惊讶的获奖者”，他也是罗马尼亚有史以来首位问鼎嘎纳电影节最高奖的导演。不过，这部反映1987年女大学生偷偷堕胎的故事片，就曾引起法国和意大利保守人士的抗议。这部电影被《纽约时报》评为2007和2008年世界电影排行榜之首，被加拿大《环球邮报》评为07年电影排行第二。
2012年，他的第四部故事片《在山那边》（După dealuri）获得嘎纳电影节最佳编剧和最佳女演员奖，该片还曾角逐奥斯卡最佳外语片。
2013年，他正在拍摄的故事片是《6.9 on Richter》。
2013年4月，他成为第66届嘎纳电影节评委。
穆基心目中的导演是两位美国人：两度获得奥斯卡最佳导演奖的捷克裔美国人米洛斯·福曼 （Miloš Forman）和06年去世的曾六度角逐奥斯卡最佳导演而未能成功的勞勃·阿特曼（Robert Altman）。他心目中的电影是诸如《偷自行车的人》这样的现实主义作品。
他姐姐 Alina Mungiu-Pippidi 是罗马尼亚著名的政治学家、记者和作家。
附一：罗马尼亚新浪潮代表人物及作品
2005 年克里斯提•普优的无医可靠 The Death of Mr. Lazarescu (2005)获得戛纳电影节“一种关注”单元大奖，2006年波蓝波宇的布加勒斯特东12点8分 A fost sau n-a fost? (2006)获金摄影机奖，卡塔林•米苏雷斯库的爱在世界崩溃时 Cum mi-am petrecut sfarsitul lumii (2006)获“一种关注”单元最佳女演员奖。2007 年克里斯蒂安•内梅斯库的加州梦 California Dreamin' (Nesfarsit) (2007)获“一种关注”单元大奖，克里斯汀·穆基的四月三周两天 4 luni, 3 saptamâni si 2 zile (2007)则在如林强手中拿下戛纳备受瞩目的 60 周年金棕榈大奖。
拉杜•穆提恩无主孤军 Hîrtia va fi albastrã (2006)、《波吉》、圣诞节后的星期二 Marţi, după Crăciun (2010)、拉杜•休德《世界上最快乐的女孩》、马里安•克里桑威震天 Megatron (2008)、《早晨》、博格丹•穆斯塔塔游泳的好日子 O zi buna de plaja (2008)
附二：介绍罗马尼亚《后十二月》电影运动，选自 彭怡平的《4月3週又2天的政治隐喻与女体之间》一文：
自二○○一年起，在国际间频频获奖的罗马尼亚电影，即出自三十多岁的编导世代，他们在罗马尼亚共党统治者希奥塞古（Nicolae Ceausescu,1965~1989）倒台的第二天，便发起了日后震撼世界影坛的「后十二月」（Post-Décembre）运动。
这个运动的成员聚集了当今罗马尼亚影坛最重要的导演如克里斯提‧布依乌（Christ Puiu），科内里乌‧波鲁布依乌（Corneliu Porumboiu），以及甫获坎城影展金棕櫚奖导演克里斯汀‧穆基（Cristian Mungiu）；他们分别以【但丁‧拉扎雷斯古之死】（La Mort de Dante Lazarescu,2006）、2006年坎城影展「金摄影机奖」【12点零八分，布加勒斯特以东】（12h08,à l’Est de Bucarest,2007）与【西方】（L’Occident,2002），在世界影坛展露头角；而在这些作品的背后，还有一点不能不提的就是这些影片的幕后功臣，它们皆由同一位製片丹尼尔‧布尔拉克（Daniel Burlac）资助。
年仅三十九岁的罗马尼亚导演克里斯汀‧穆基，身兼【4月3週又2天】（4 Luni, 3 Saptamini Si 2 Zile,2006）的编导，在这部电影作品裡，他以女大学女的堕胎故事為主轴，娓娓道来希奥塞古（Nicolae Ceausescu,1965~1989）统治末期的社会面貌；经歷了长达二十四年的专制统治以后，罗马尼亚老百姓生活在物资极度的短絀，官僚主义猖獗，人与人之间的关係奠基於权利与欲望的基础之上。
克里斯汀‧穆基以言简意賅的电影语法、阴沉单调的色彩、令人窒息的密闭空间，营造出一个犹如卡夫卡梦魘般的罗马尼亚政治寓言，让观者不寒而慄！
附三：美国最权威的电影杂志网站（http://www.cineaste.com）就《4月3周又2天》对克里斯汀·穆基的采访。
Not Just an Abortion Film: An Interview with Cristian Mungiu
by Richard Porton
While most of Eastern Europe's postwar Communist countries were ruled by bland, if frequently corrupt, figureheads, Romania proved a spectacularly ghoulish exception. Soon after becoming head of the party in 1965, Nicolae Ceausescu took additional, aggressively nationalist measures to distance his regime from the Soviet Union (he was christened "President" in a bogus election in 1974) while adhering to a hardline Stalinist economic model—and encouraging an elaborate cult of personality—that might have made Stalin himself envious. One of his most notorious fiats—Decree 770 issued in 1966—outlawed abortion and proceeded to reward mothers of multiple children with medals and lavish praise for their efforts to build a populous socialist bulwark. Unlike campaigns against abortion in the West, Ceausescu's imposition of mandatory motherhood (at least for women under forty-five) had nothing to do with religious or moral doctrines. It was instead aligned to what the Romanian author Norman Manea terms "the state ownership of human beings"—the obliteration of the private realm enforced by an intractable bureaucracy.
Cristian Mungiu's second feature, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (winner of the Palme d'Or at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival), breathes life into historical abstractions by delineating the ethical options available to citizens of a police state by fusing a startlingly naturalistic style with the nail-biting tension usually associated with thrillers. Set in a dismal, unnamed provincial city, Mungiu's film demonstrates that, even under totalitarianism, individuals need not be automatons and can defy the iron rule of the state through small, but not insignificant, actions. The banal travails of everyday life in a repressive regime inspire heroic gestures: In one of the most unbalanced friendships in cinematic history, the classically pretty, but astonishingly passive, polytechnic student Gabita (Laura Vasiliu), receives a clandestine abortion with the help of her grittier, more resourceful roommate, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca). Not only do this mismatched pair live in fear of the years in prison that await them if the Romanian security apparatus discovers their crime. They must also endure the horrors of dealing with the odious Mr. Bebe (Vlad Ivanov), a back-alley abortionist who forces Otilia and Gabita to assuage his wrath with sexual favors.
The singular brilliance of 4 Months does not reside, however, in its bare bones narrative but in the wealth of accumulated detail harnessed to illuminate Gabita and Otilia's ever-increasing desperation and anxiety. Shot in real time and featuring exquisitely choreographed long takes, Oleg Mutu's consistently inventive cinematography isolates key moments that pinpoint the protagonists' psychological malaise and social unease. At the film's outset, a shot of Gabita and Otilia's dormitory room reveals a fishbowl with only a paltry amount of water—an image that beautifully encapsulates the young women's sense of being inexorably trapped. Ominously flickering lights in the hotel where the abortion is performed plunge viewers into a veritable twilight zone while the hand-held tracking shots that accompany Otilia, as she traverses the bleak streets of her university town in search of help for her remarkably ungrateful friend, create a heavy fog of suspense that is never lifted. Mungiu's naturalism is uncanny for its ability to intimately acquaint viewers with his protagonists' plight while maintaining a cautious distance. The narcissistic Gabita and the indefatigable Otilia (a brilliant performance by Anamaria Marinca), are captured on film with an impassivity that resembles the stare of a peculiarly empathetic surveillance camera.
4 Months is also noteworthy for insights into the seemingly paradoxical phenomenon of class tensions under state socialism. Sharp disparities between the smugness of the professional class (often referred to as the "intelligentsia" in Eastern Europe, a category that traditionally included professionals such as doctors as well as writers and academics) surface in the depiction of a squirm-inducing birthday party thrown for the mother of Otilia's boyfriend. Beside herself with anxiety at a time when she fears that Gabita's life might be in peril, Otilia must endure the snobbish remarks of party guests who patronize her as coming from "simple folk" and make snide comments about her family background. With a nod to a famous sociological study by the Hungarian sociologists George Konrad and Ivan Szelenyi, it's arguable that professionals under Communism deployed a pseudoegalitarian mindset in order to achieve "class power." Mungiu's film invokes this paradox without a smidgen of didacticism. An implied analysis of socialist elites is evident in the subtle details of the film's mordantly farcical birthday party: as most of the population suffers, a privileged few sip champagne and eat crème brûlée.
Cineaste interviewed Mungiu shortly before the U.S. premiere of 4 Months at the New York Film Festival. He was eager to talk about such diverse topics as the relationship of his film to battles over abortion rights in the West, the hype lavished on the so-called "Romanian New Wave," and the psychic damage wrought by Ceausescu's cruel dictatorship.
Cineaste: You've announced that 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is part of a cycle entitled "Tales from The Golden Age." Although this title is obviously ironic, could you elaborate on its significance? How do you envision the cycle as a whole?
Cristian Mungiu: I don't know if it's obvious to everyone, but the title comes from a reference to "the golden age of Romania," the last nine years of Ceausescu's regime. This is very ironic for Romanians since it was a period of shortages and hardship. The project, "Tales from the Golden Age," evolved from my initial idea to film shorter stories. I initially wrote about six stories that would each last about thirty minutes inspired by urban legends of the period. I wanted to make a subjective, personal history of the late Communist era in Romania—the way in which real people suffered small misfortunes under a big dictatorship. The tone was rather light and, as soon as it was finished (and we had even started to preproduce it), young people who read the script observed, "This is very funny; it must have been very funny to live during those times." This wasn't my intention and I thought I had a responsibility to avoid this response. Since I never wanted to abandon the project, I decided to make a film with a very different tone. I knew that I wanted a harsher view of this period—and this is how I came up with the current film. But the cycle will continue with two more films that will focus on other aspects of Romanian society during this era. Since the rest of the project is so episodic, I've decided to make it an omnibus film. Various young Romanian directors will direct subsequent episodes.
Cineaste: Did the chronicle of the abortion in the current film come out of research?
Mungiu: No, it came from a desire to tell a story that had relevance for this period and great emotional intensity— and was also pertinent for my entire generation. I was born in 1968 and I'm part of a generation of Romanians who are now on earth because abortion was illegal at the time. I thought this was a subject that speaks to the plight of a lot of my contemporaries. It was a personal story that I was familiar with. After I met again with the girl who had told me stories about this era, I realized that it had the potential of becoming a film.
Cineaste: So a woman who had grown up during the end of the Ceausescu regime recounted the story to you?
Mungiu:Yes, I based it on a real story but only fictionalized the biographies and added some of the context. I tried to research some details to make sure I wasn't doing something nonsensical. But the basic story always remained the same.
Cineaste: Did the narrative equation always emphasize the passivity of the young woman needing the abortion contrasted with the energetic resourcefulness of her friend and helper?
Mungiu: This wasn't particularly apparent at the beginning of the process; it was something that evolved while I was writing the script. At the beginning I thought I was making a film about two girls. But I eventually discovered that I had only one main character. Because of this, I made some changes and essentially left out all the scenes involving one of the characters since I realized that the protagonist who understands what's going on during this day should be the focus. I thought this was better for the story.
Cineaste: In some respects, the opposition of these characters is a metaphor for opposing options in a totalitarian society: remaining passive vs. the choice to resist.
Mungiu: It demonstrates that, although you might resist without solving anything, at least you had a reaction. It was important for me to show that some people were much more aware than others of what was going on at this time. Most people, though, just act from day to day and don't think about the consequences. I thought it was important to make this film to emphasize that there are still people today in Romania who act without thinking about the consequences. After being forced to have children during the Ceausescu years, there were about a million abortions in Romania after it was made legal—as if people didn't realize that there was another kind of contraception.
Cineaste: You've spoken about the decision to filter most of the narrative through Otilia's perspective. But it also seems important to emphasize how the camera maintains a distance from her narrative and seems to evoke the presence of state surveillance that was obviously a factor at that time.
Mungiu: If you watch the film carefully, you'll notice that, when she walks, for example, we only see her from the back. But I wasn't trying to make this sort of commentary conspicuous. When I was directing actors, I didn't tell them that certain gestures were symbolic or signified something specific. I was trying to keep the actors conscious of their roles but hoped that, when the film was finished, people would understand some aspects of Romanian society from the way the film was made. I hope the film invites discussion of this diffuse sort of oppression, the fear of always being watched and controlled. But I didn't want to make it too explicit.
Cineaste: And, in a similarly subtle way, you emphasize how class distinctions persisted under Communism.
Mungiu: Yes, to my surprise, a Bulgarian told me that he thought this was the best film he'd seen about social classes under Communism; the film speaks about the wide range of options available to those on top. One of my purposes with this film was to demonstrate that, although we were young and thought we weren't affected by propaganda, we were victims of the educational system. This sometimes came out during arguments; when we were angry our arguments sometimes reflected this propaganda. I think this comes out when Otilia is arguing with her boyfriend; she can't speak about her friend's abortion so the other conflicts become apparent. This is very strange since we usually never talked about these matters among ourselves. When this couple becomes aware of their parents' status, it's something that's come out of the propaganda and the educational system. People have heard that intellectuals are very important, even if they're not quite sure why.
Cineaste: It's reminiscent of what Milovan Djilas once wrote about the Yugoslavian "new class."
Mungiu: And this was eventually the class promoting capitalism in the post-Communist era. The former Communists became the engine of the new economy.
Cineaste: Of course, there were some peculiar aspects of Romanian Communism since it was the only Eastern bloc country to ban abortion. The Soviet Union promoted abortions.
Mungiu: And the Soviet Union promoted sex as a way of relieving social pressures. It was completely different in Romania. Even in Poland, despite the influence of the Catholic Church, the policy was different. This was something specifically Romanian. It's difficult to find a good explanation. But, according to my research, the causes stem from Ceausescu's motivations from 1966 on that were partially economic and partially propagandistic.
Cineaste: And tied to Ceausescu's cult of personality?
Mungiu: It was a way of saying that we have to boost the economy: to complete our plans in economics and agriculture we therefore have to increase the population. Important nations are big nations. We need to build the new man, the new socialist man. Because of this reasoning, abortion was forbidden for much of the population. It was only permitted for women over forty-five. You'd get a medal for producing ten children.
Cineaste: This probably explains why Ceausescu's regime was considered as much fascist as Communist.
Mungiu: Yes, and it's important to explain this sort of thing. Because of the situation in Romania where childbearing was imposed on women, they weren't considering the most important aspect of abortion—the fact that it's your personal, moral choice. It's not about you or the system; it's an ethical choice that needs to be made. We never thought about this. We were just trying to get away with not getting caught by the authorities. The fact that we weren't aware of these ethical questions was the most horrible aspect of Communism.
Cineaste: The shot of the fetus (which is held for a considerable length of time) is probably the most controversial moment in the film. I assume you felt this shot was an essential component of the narrative, especially since it's an important element in Otilia's perspective on events.
Mungiu: I thought it was an important part of the story and it would have been an odd formal decision on my part as an author to avoid this shot. This was so much part of what was happening to her during this day. Since she spends the last thirty minutes of the film dealing with what she experiences in the bathroom, you can't really avoid showing the fetus. The shot is not long. People tell me that it's one minute, but it's only fourteen seconds or so—the length that was needed for her to deliver her lines. When I edited the film I realized this was part of the story and would have to remain.
Cineaste: Nevertheless, have some viewers or critics objected to this shot?
Mungiu: Well, something else is happening here. Romanians, including myself, are not familiar with the kind of imagery used by antiabortion organizations over here. I come from a country where abortion is not an issue anymore—in any sense. It's strange, but it's a very poor country experiencing many other problems. So the more economic problems you have, the less time you have to think about moral issues. You're just concerned with making a living.
Cineaste: Yes, I'm sure part of the reaction to the shot is connected to revulsion against the imagery used by antiabortion propagandists.
Mungiu: Yes, but what made me happy about the reaction to the film at festivals, and in the States, was that people realize that the film is just trying to tell a story. It's not taking sides. I hope the film will serve as a departure point for people to form their own opinions.
Cineaste: Wasn't there a controversy recently about the film being screened in French schools?
Mungiu:Yes, there was a huge protest by an association of filmmakers in France against the French minister of education's attempt to censor the film. At some point, they wanted to draw back from screening the film in French high schools. I won an award while in Cannes called "La Prix de L'Éducation nationale." My understanding was that the film wouldn't necessarily be shown in all of the schools but a documentary about the film would be shown and eventually the film itself would be screening in schools and DVDs made available. Apparently some French antiabortion organization protested. You can never tell with this film; in some countries, it is used as a tool against abortion! Finally, though, this organization gave up and it will be shown in French schools. Not only that, there's also the possibility that the same thing will be done in Romania. I think, in a way, it's even more important for young people in Romania to see the film.
Cineaste: I suppose the decision to employ "real time" in the film arose from your decision to follow the journey of one protagonist and her actions and thought processes.
Mungiu: Yes, this is also why I didn't use music, intrusive editing, or even close-ups if possible. I wanted to keep a proper distance from the subject and be honest with the story. I feel that, if you're honest but stay true to the story, the audience will also react more honestly than if I was constantly imposing my own point of view.
Cineaste: And you must have worked quite closely with your cinematographer, Oleg Mutu, to achieve this esthetic.
Mungiu: Well, we were colleagues in film school and we started working about thirteen years ago. We did more than ten films together as well as some commercials. It's easy to work with him since I've known him for such a long time. But since he isn't Romanian, and was born in Kishinev in Moldova, I had to explain to him what I wanted as far as the realism of the film was concerned. With the interiors, I wanted to use as little artificial light as possible and I wanted to shoot at night for the exteriors. Historically speaking, there were no streetlights in Romania. So he was inventive enough to carry some lights on top of the cameras so we could understand what was happening to a character when we were following her for 200 meters during a night scene. I hate films when you can see a beam of light illuminating the characters. It wasn't like this at all; he did a tremendous job.
Cineaste: And he was also the camera operator.
Mungiu: Yes, and operating the camera for this film was a very physical job, very difficult. He climbed downstairs with this girl for the long shot in the hotel. To do the shot at the end of the film, we started in the street and we walked with the whole crew up to a block of flats carrying everything including the sound equipment.
Cineaste: It seems a bit reminiscent of the Dardenne brothers' technique.
Mungiu: Yes, I will have to see their films since many people have made this comparison. But La Promesse is the only one I've seen. I wanted to invite them to a screening, but they couldn't make it. I'm very curious to see if there's a stylistic similarity.
Cineaste: It's also interesting that there are several directors in Romania working in a naturalistic style. Of course, I noticed that you remarked in Sight & Sound that you didn't think there was a unified "group" of Romanian directors. Do you dislike the category now known as the "Romanian New Wave?"
Mungiu: Well, the only thing that makes these directors a group is the fact that they all received recognition around the same time and are about the same age; there's a Romanian "wave," if you like, but not a Romanian "school." It's not as if we share an esthetic manifesto. Some of the films have similar traits. But if you watch my film next to films by Catalin Mitulescu, Cristi Puiu, Corneliu Porumboiu, they're all very different. I think this is one of the good things about this wave of filmmakers. They are quite diverse and don't necessarily view cinema in the same way. Some of the films share realism in common or a certain form of humor. One thing we all have in common is the fact that we are not only writer-directors, but also produce the films ourselves. So, within the limitations of our small budgets, we all have the freedom to make the films we see fit. Not one of us would ever make any comments regarding box-office potential—there is no box-office potential. There are only thirty-five movie theaters left in Romania.
Cineaste: Are the Romanian films screened in theaters? Or is the situation similar to other countries where American product dominates.
Mungiu: Even though Romanian films are screened, American movies make up eighty per cent of the market. But the situation is not good since Romanians don't go to see many films in theaters at all; they don't have theaters to see films. But now that I'm in a position to do something, I've organized a caravan to show films all over Romania. The results have been quite spectacular and I think we're proving a point. We've done our part; the films have done very well at festivals, and the people who have seen them in Romania like them. So maybe now we'll get someone to invest in exhibition.
Cineaste: Although many people now see films on DVDs, it's a much different experience seeing them theatrically.
Mungiu:Yes, just think about how this film was made. It was shot in widescreen and it has a lot of details placed in the background because I never wanted them to become the subject of the film.
Cineaste: Yes, and this film is partially about the specific duration of events. So there's a real necessity to see it from beginning to end without interruption.
Mungiu: Yes, it makes a big difference if you see the film theatrically and don't pause to get up to get a beer. But, during the last fifteen years, Romanians have gotten used to seeing films mostly on home video. But it's important to know if people want to see films in theaters because there's no point making films on film if they just want to watch DVDs.
Cineaste: In scouting locations, did you attempt to find ones such as the hotel that had the feel of Romania during the last years of Communism?
Mungiu: It wasn't easy. Even though the action of the film doesn't take place in Bucharest, it was possible for us to shoot exteriors there. I wanted to emphasize that this wasn't happening in Bucharest since abortion was a much more complicated issue in the provinces. The possibilities were much more limited. But, given my small budget, I couldn't fly to distant locations and had to shoot in Bucharest.There are two hotels in the film and I couldn't find a second appropriate hotel in Bucharest. You can find many socialist-looking buildings but not necessarily places where you're able to shoot because they have air conditioning, satellite dishes, and all of the windows have been changed. I finally found a second hotel about eighty kilometers from Bucharest. Even with the same hotel, I made a lot of changes. The room I chose for the negotiation scene didn't have the right walls but was at least quiet. There was a tram outside the first one and I only used direct sound. So I painted the walls of the room and covered one window and built a fake wall and took furniture from another room. So, even though I intervened and made changes to these "real locations," there is an aspect of filming in actual locations that helps the actors.
Cineaste: And it was helpful that you received some support from the Hubert Bals Fund of the Rotterdam Film Festival?
Mungiu: That support was not only helpful financially. It was even more helpful from a logistical viewpoint since this provided the initial confirmation that the screenplay was doable. I got very good feedback and reinforced my idea that this would be the first film in the cycle although I had written another screenplay previously. Furthermore, Rotterdam helped by having a screening before Cannes of a rough cut for sales agents and a very few critics. This was very helpful since it informed people that the film was ready for Cannes and was of interest.
Cineaste: So in conclusion, wouldn't you say that 4 Months shouldn't be reduced to being termed an "abortion film?"
Mungiu: Yes, but it can be. In countries like Italy and Poland the abortion issue was much more important than the film. It was impossible to speak about anything else. But people who actually see the film never come out with the impression that they've seen a film about abortion. I am glad that, despite all of the expectations people have about the film before actually seeing it, it's a different experience when they actually see it.
Richard Porton is currently editing an anthology on film festivals for Wallflower Press.
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