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Romanian cinema has been valiantly tearing through film festivals around the world as of late. The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, which premiered at Cannes in 2005, and 12:08 East of Bucharest, which followed the next year, both were well received at the annual French mega-event. Last year, Cristian Mungiu made it three-in-a-row with his bleak and unforgiving drama 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days . It was awarded Cannes’ top prize, the Palme d’Or.

Ironically enough, whereas Lazarescu and Bucharest don’t compare to 4 Months in terms of raw power and all-together filmmaking, they’re consciously missed for their underlying humor, which keeps their tension in check. There’s none of that in this film. It wraps itself so tight that, at any point, it’s liable to snap and whip you clean across your face. But it refrains. And once the screen turns black, you’ll wish you had taken a teensy thrashing instead.

The year is 1987 and Romania is in the final stages of its quarter-century-long rule under Communist leader Nicolae Ceausescu. In room 206 of a middle-class Hotel somewhere in Bucharest, Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) and her friend and college dormmate Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) are faced with an unimaginable choice: they must decide whether or not to go through with Gabita’s planned abortion. The consequences under Romanian law are severe, especially for intended abortionist Mr. Bebe (Vlad Ivanov), whose circumstantial leverage, considering the girls’ desperation, works against what little favor, comfort, and dignity they have left.

Mungiu’s direction is subtle and can easily be overshadowed by the film’s worsening events. But it shouldn’t be. Like few other filmmakers (Hungarian director Béla Tarr comes to mind), Mungiu delivers long-cut, unadulterated scenes that are utterly transfixing, whether their focus is on a character or a wall (or the pair captured in the reflection of a bathroom mirror). The small range of angles and natural lighting he provides works well enough to make you forget you’re not actually present at the time of the story. You’ll feel like the camera’s your own set of eyes, watching Otilia and Gabita answer to their consciences from the most intimate perspective.

In addition to its award-qualified direction, 4 Months features a stunning script and a wonderful set of performances. As Otilia, the story’s main character, Anamaria Marinca is dynamite. She’s present in every scene, and every scene is catapulted to an unnerving plane of intensity as a result. One particular scene is set at the table of an awkward dinner party and Otilia’s smack in the middle of it. In fashion, Mungiu lets the scene run pure for nearly 10 minutes. Without speaking much at all, Otilia’s frustration and uneasy attitude is vividly portrayed and consequently grieved over.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is many things. It’s real. It’s unremorsefully stubborn. It’s sobering, therapeutic, and cleansing. It’s an artist’s crownwork. It’s also as grim and depressing as any movie since Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream. And it may be better. Considering its entirety, it’s one of the most bewildering accomplishments in world cinema of the past couple of years. 4 Months is a grueling piece of bona fide moviemaking at its most painstaking, an incurable stomachache for those not prepared.

And the DVD is well put-together. Extras incorporate separate interviews with Mungiu and cinematographer Oleg Mutu, in addition to the film’s theatrical trailer, and an eye-opening, 15-minute documentary called 1 Month with 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, wherein a team of filmmakers treks around Romania, screening Mungiu’s movie and documenting its reception. The short is preceded by informative title cards about cinema in Romania—did you know that there are currently less than 50 movie theaters in Romania, whose population exceeds 20 million people? (That’s a ratio of one theater to every 400,000 citizens.) I sure didn’t.

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