Rating:
by Derek Smith 10/11/06

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The Death of Mr. Lazarescu defies easy categorization, using a neo-realist aesthetic to acheive a heightened sense of absurdity and tragedy while retaining the realism of a human being literally rotting away over the course of the film.  This juxtaposition makes for both an intense and frustrating experience where we witness the excessive ineptitude of a health care system gone awry simultaneously with its consequences.  Dante Lazarescu, an obvious reference to Dante's Inferno, is the helpless man who his entire evening and night being mistreated and sent from one hospital to the next, travelling through the multiple layers of Hell in an endless quest for medical assistance.  Christi Puiu's documentary style filming gives the film an immediacy which creates a natural sympathy for Lazarescu, but he refuses to engage in sentimentality, making his protoganist a rather cold and unlikeable man, reaking of booze and who, from what it appears, was beginning to rot away already in his dingy apartment.  The 2-1/2 hour film occurs over a mere 7-hour period which, while not keeping with real time, allows the viewer to experience the frustration and anger over such blatant and contemptuous behavior.

Puiu's film has a clear agenda in exposing the gross misconduct happening on a regular basis (though certainly not to this degree) in Romania, but it speaks volumes about the value of human life and the need for people, whether or not they are restricted by bureaucracy, simply to care for one another.  His watchful eye keeps Lazaresu within the frame at almost all times, allowing the audience to get a glimpse of all the unrelated problems and discussions that doctors and nurses are having around him while remaining aware that he is suffering a slow and senseless death.  This effect of the elephant in the room that no one talks about shows the constant devaluing of Lazarescu's life and health in the face of the trivial concerns of medical "professionals".  The running time may seem excessive for such an exercise, but it's absolutely necessary to reach the absurd heights of the final hour where the once bitchy ambulence nurse escorting Lazarescu over the course of the night begins to express her anger at the overwhelming indifference of every doctor they see.  Her job gives her no authority so she becomes as helpless as the dying man himself - her increasingly heartfelt and angry requests for someone, anyone, to merely do their job are met with self-righteous lectures about her unimportance and allusions to other to the more immediate needs of other, often unseen, patients.  Whether or not some or all of the doctors are legitimately exhausted, mentally or physically, is of little concern for Puiu, not because he isn't giving them a fair shake but because no cause could justify their lack of empathy for Mr. Lazarescu.  But truly it is exposing the ineffectiveness of the system from top to bottom; a necessary social institution being strangled by the same red tape it uses to tie one hand behind every doctors back.  In light of the circumstances, reform doesn't sound like nearly a strong enough word, likely because Puiu forces us to see that minor tweaking cannot correct, or barely even effect, a system so rotten to the core.  The immediacy of Lazarescu's slowly decaying body forces the viewer to acknowledge this and challenges them not to be complacent and allow things to remain as they are.