The Death of Mr Lazarescu is the literal exquisite corpse film. A patient diagnosed and treated differently by every single doctor and specialist.
This isn’t a scathing critique of the healthcare system. It’s a self-indictment on apathy and neglect in the face of unfortunate events.
Mr Lazarescu drinks chronically despite having a deadly ulcer. Each hospital is full of patients more gravely Ill than himself. And by the time he’s sick enough to warrant surgery, it’s too late. And through it all the paramedics just stand and watch, all for naught.
The Romanians capitalized most on the aesthetic Vogue of the 2000s. A dilapidated masterpiece.