The conjoined narratives of Cristian Mungiu’s debut feature Occident (2002) begin at a historical ground zero:  the beginning of the post-Ceausescu era in Romania, where newly acquired freedoms bump up against the remnants of systemic repression and capitalism is no longer a mere rumour.
Luci (Alexandru Papadopol) desires — quite sensibly — to flee from this literal and figurative wasteland; her boyfriend Sorina (Anca Androne) wants — sincerely and naïvely — to try to make the best of what’s left. This despite the fact that he returns home to find his belongings removed: Mungiu’s first great visual gag finds the pair discussing their fortunes while seated on their couch — outside the apartment.

It’s a potent image of dislocation, and there are others: in its low-key way, Occident is visually eloquent filmmaking. It’s also too carefully written by half, however, telegraphing the resonances between its narrative strands — which stem from Luci and Sorina’s divergent paths — and occasionally revelling in its own cause-and-effect cleverness. Mungiu would of course go on to make 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, and while that film is clearly superior (especially in terms of disguising its plot mechanics), the sensibility at play here — at once enraged and empathetic — feels consistent.