Interesting as it is to be able to observe one of the Cold War's craziest dictators at such close quarters for three hours, it's perverse of 'The Autobiography of Nicolae Ceaușescu' that it should derive its fascination from the unfamiliarity of the material, but then insist on compromising the impact provided by that very unfamiliarity by deeming itself too cool to bother with fuddy-duddy conventions like commentary and captions to give the audience a much-needed sense of context at critical moments: of which it serves up many. Two sequences that particularly stand out are a breathtaking North Korean pageant in exquisite colour, staged on Ceaușescu's behalf by a beaming Kim Il-sung some time presumably in the seventies; and the 84 year-old communist party veteran Constantin Pîrvulescu taking the podium at the 12th Party Congress in November 1979 and launching into a remarkable attack on Ceaușescu calling for his resignation. (The film left me extremely curious as to what happened to Pîrvulescu next, but it was to Wikipedia that I had to turn to find most of the information I've just given you, and that Pîrvulescu, rather than being immediately killed was simply placed under house arrest, survived the Ceaușescu years and lived to be 96; news that ironically revealed the Ceaușescu regime in a better light than I had anticipated).There has always struck me as a certain aloof arrogance about documentaries that entirely dispense with commentary. (Just as 'Shoah's refusal to include ANY historical footage - so that we don't even get a photograph of the young Jan Karski during his lengthy interrogation by Claude Lanzmann - actually blunted the impact of the material that Lanzmann piously affected to be giving us unadorned). Andrei Ujică's film ironically adheres as stubbornly to its own particular dogma of self-consciously 'audacious' minimalism as Ceaușescu himself did to his own dogmas in the political and economic spheres. Would it really have hurt for Mr Ujică just occasionally to provide the viewer who has invested three hours of their valuable time in watching his film to have provided the occasional caption dating and contextualising the often lengthy and repetitious film clips that he serves up? Mr Ujică would presumably argue that he's just letting the material speak for itself; but simply by selecting three hours of material out of the thousand hours he viewed he's already decided what we're going to get, and even with the limited guidance he provides I could tell that he wasn't always presenting the material in simple chronological order. (Colour footage of Ceaușescu's 60th birthday celebrations in 1978, for example, is then unexpectedly followed by him giving a speech in black & white on the occasion of his 55th birthday five years earlier). Ujică has his cake and eats it by bookending the film with the kangaroo court Elena and Nicolae Ceaușescu were subjected to on Christmas Day 1989; although once again - presumably deliberately - he throws us a wobbly by not showing us the famous moment four days earlier when Ceaușescu launched into yet another of the speeches we have by now become familiar with, only to be greeted by the unaccustomed sound of booing and heckling.Should Mr.Ujică ever deign to issue this film exactly as it already is only with captions I will happily revise my rating to Nine Stars.

When watching this 'documentary' (which isn't accurate as this is more a linear collage of archival footage), I kept wondering when will the director take a stand or provide in some analysis? 180 minutes is long, very long to keep staring at footage most interested in social history will have seen before.But, this is literally what it is and remains: 180 minutes of archival footage back to back without any narrative what so ever. If one watches this docu hoping you'll learn more about the life of Ceausescu you won't because most interested in this topic will already have seen thetypical news footage. What is missing is in depth analysis, interviews, arguments pro and against. Basically anyone, given enough time and resources can collect a whole bunch of video footage about a certain person, collage it and then you'll get this result. If anything it makes the figure of Ceausescu more confusing than clear and those who don't know any better might even think he wasn't that bad at all and was set up in the end to fall.

Andrei Ujica's film is an interesting mish-mash of documentary and archive material. Arranged progressively according to the timeline, we are treated to a very long and protracted story of Ceauseascu's life and role in the history of Romania. The film is done according to the very nice-sounding, but eventually problematic motto of "letting the archives and the evidence speak for itself". This proposition can achieve some moniker of success only among those, such as myself, who come from Romania, and know its history well, having studied it at the university level. But to foreigners or even young Romanians, lacking the context and the historical background, the film fails in documenting anything. An external viewer will not know who most of the people in the film are, what the background is for Ceausescu's reactions (such as his speech in 1968 in support of Czechoslovakia) as so forth. The film is also very long, almost three hours, and I admit that even I, who have a professional interest in the documentary material, had to give up half way through and resume later. Making an analogy, the film represents the difference between archive material and a book of history. The material, outside of its chronological arrangement, is raw, lacking subtitles, names etc. in many cases; a documentary based on the material painstakingly gathered by the director would have been much more interesting for the wider public. Still, the film is worth watching for a specialized audience, and shows never before seen material on a very important epoch and person in Romania's history.

"The Autobiography of Nicolae Ceausescu" is an audacious, and to my eye very successful, way to tell a story. I should say to show a story, because nothing is told. No context or viewpoint is provided, other than the camera's. The filmmakers have drawn on a rich video archive concerning Ceausescu and Rumania from 1965 to 1989. No opinions are explicitly offered, and no history or explanation provided, beyond what the camera sees. And the camera sees a lot. As with the footage in Leni Riefenstahl's "Olympia," the images are quite arresting, and one really doesn't want to move one's eye away from what the camera is seeing. I would offer three pieces of advice about the film. First, go and be prepared to supply your own context. I'm a historian and fairly wonky in these matters, but even so, it took me a good few minutes to get accustomed to the idea that the film's narrative was going to be simply what the camera was showing. I suspect this will catch many viewers by surprise, and it's better to know it in advance. Second: go with an open mind. Ceausescu is a controversial character. It pays to put your viewpoints aside --not forget them, just suspend them-- while you are seeing the film. And finally, by all means go. This is audacious storytelling and great cinema. The effort you expend on this journey will certainly be rewarded.