Humour is the balm that we apply to the wounds of the past, and few filmmakers have proven this to be truer than those who formed the movement we know as the Romanian New Wave. For the past couple of decades, we have seen some truly gifted writers and directors emerging from Romania, crafting films that are extraordinarily bleak or darkly comical, if not both. One of the more notable figures in establishing this movement is Corneliu Porumboiu, who has gone on to be extremely respected but started his filmmaking career with a slightly more unorthodox production that speaks to many of the dominant artistic quandaries that have persisted over time and continue to inform a lot of Romanian culture to this day. 12:08 East of Bucharest (Romanian: A fost sau n-a fost?) is considered one of the defining works of this period, not only for its content but also the form it takes, with the director crafting a fascinating dark comedy that centres on the intersecting lives of a group of individuals living in a small town on the outskirts of the capital, following them as they prepare for a celebration in which they will reflect on the history of their town, as well as the journey they have undertaken over the past few decades in overcoming the challenges left by the fall of communism. Porumboiu, in his capacity as one of the most genuinely exciting European filmmakers currently work, dares to craft a story that is heartfelt, funny and oddly quite endearing in ways that would surprise viewers, at least in terms of how it navigates sometimes tricky narrative territory in favour of conveying a very peculiar message that speaks to quite a bit of the modern sentiment surrounding the lives of the people whose stories are represented throughout this off-kilter and engaging film.

If there is one characteristic that has defined the Romanian New Wave, it’s the refusal to do anything even vaguely close to a traditionally-structured film. Much like his peers, Porumboiu has a clear disdain for convention, and throughout this film, we find him taking some wild leaps in terms of how he presents the story. 12:08 East of Bucharest is mainly a series of vignettes loosely tied together by featuring overlapping characters. There is a lot of repetition that goes into the film, with duplicated or mirrored shots being quite prevalent throughout the film. Then there is the use of humour, which is a powerful weapon that can be used to challenge and subvert in bizarre and complex ways. All of these factors work together to give this film a very distinct tone that goes towards painting a vivid and harrowing picture of what it is like to live in a post-Soviet state. By the time this film went into production, Romania was heading towards twenty years since the fall of Communism, as well as the same number of years since the death of Nicolae Ceaușescu, whose reign left an indelible impression on the country and its people. Both events factor heavily into the film (and the irony of setting this film at Christmas when Ceaușescu famously died on Christmas Day is not at all lost on those who are aware of this fact), and the plot revolves around characters reflecting on these events and what they mean in their life. It is a very simple approach, but it works splendidly in the context of the film as a whole, which is unconventional and quite daring. Some decisions may seem odd, such as the entire third act being a single unbroken shot of a group of characters sitting and talking to the camera. Porumboiu was not interested in following a particular structure and instead chose a more freeform approach, which benefits the film as a whole and leads to many terrific decisions in the process.

I don’t think anyone can fully fathom what is being conveyed in 12:08 East of Bucharest without having been physically present in one of these post-Soviet states. Regardless of the country, visiting one of these places that had been shaped by the formation and eventual fall of the USSR is an experience that is both haunting and compelling, and there is a level of detail in this film that is only visible to those who recognise the specific kind of discourse being presented throughout the film. This unnamed small city, which has stood in the shadow of the capital for as long as it has existed, conceals many secrets. The director makes sure that he is pushing further with this particular aspect of the plot than any of the others since this is likely the part that will pique most of the curiosity and cause viewers to want to take a closer look at a lot of the underlying ideas that informed this film. Granted, most of 12:08 East of Bucharest is formed as a satire (and we’ll discuss the humour imminently), but what makes it effective is that it is a profoundly human story, handcrafted by a group of individuals who genuinely care about the material in a way that is earnest and deeply complex, and serves to be their recollections of the past. Its difficult to imagine any of these actors agreeing to take part in this film without being willing to draw on their history and experiences, which makes the film such a rich and evocative piece of storytelling, even if its more absurd elements can sometimes distract from the fact that what Porumboiu has achieved here is a resilient, hard-hitting satire that serves more of a purpose than we initially imagine based on a cursory glance, which is one of the great surprises that guides the film.

There is a very niche kind of satire that is not only subtle but possesses a premise so banal and pointless, that it causes us to question whether the humour was intentional or merely an accident. We know that Porumboiu has a very twisted sense of humour, and absolutely nothing in this film was anything less than entirely purposeful. Yet, the charm of 12:08 East of Bucharest is that it is so different, it proves to be an exercise in perseverance to get wherever we need to go, at least in terms of the overall ideas that inform the film. Satire is a valuable commodity, and while technically anyone can produce it (and should be allowed to – having the ability to lampoon a certain aspect of the human condition, whether social, cultural or political, is one of the true freedoms that come with being artistically-inclined), it takes a lot of work to make something effective to the point where it becomes haunting. The spectre of Communism lingers heavily over this film, and it intermingles with the humour that happens to be so dark, that we don’t even realize for half of the film a particular moment is supposed to be viewed as being comedic, with the realization that only coming midway through the film when we understand exactly what the director was trying to achieve here. The simple, intimate moments of gentle but provocative humour eventually compound to create a bundle of hilarious ideas, which are liberally scattered throughout the film, challenging us to look deeper and investigate exactly what is being conveyed. Good satire makes us want to tear apart every moment to find the hidden meaning, and while a lot of these moments are intentionally superficial here, there is still a lot of great content being conveyed throughout this film, which is as earnest as it is daring.

In its best moments, 12:08 East of Bucharest is a provocative and compelling dark comedy that leapfrogs directly into the heart of the post-Soviet era, focusing on both the physical and psychological manifestations of carrying the memories of an oppressive system designed to keep the population complacent rather than promoting sincere communal values. It joins a series of wildly inventive films produced in Romania designed specifically to challenge the status quo and everything that it represents, particularly in terms of the political machinations that defined the country and its people, the memory of which still casts a long shadow over this country that has a rich, poignant history that is obscured by the unbearable weight of the past. The decision to turn the trauma and lingering despair into a comedy was a bold choice, but as we know, the only way to make an impression is to do something differently, which is exactly what we see with this film. Wickedly funny and incredibly subversive, as well as being exceptionally well-made and meaningful in a small but significant way, 12:08 East of Bucharest helped bring contemporary Romanian cinema under the spotlight. While it can sometimes be bewildering, there is so much heart and soul in what we see being done throughout this film, enough for us to want to look deeper and find even more meaning beneath the dense layers that went into its creation, proving the exceptional brilliance of this unconventional but challenging film.