2009 saw an illustrious bunch of films awarded prizes in the Un Certain Regard section at the Cannes Film Festival. The exceptional likes of the Greek Dogtooth, the Iranian No One Knows About Persian Cats and the French Father of My Children, were all place highly in my own list of the best features I have seen this past year. So I was excited to have the chance to be a completist and see the only film from that selection I had so far been missing: the Romanian Police, Adjective. And the selectors for that prize have not let themselves down, as not in my wildest hope could I have imagined seeing another film of such great quality. I seem to have a bit of a thing for Romanian cinema of late. Possibly my favourite film of the year so far (at least prior to Black Swan) was The Happiest Girl in the World. This film shares a patience and a richness with that one, with a plot just as lacking in any actual events. They are both films that create an atmosphere and a feeling, and both also films which explore competing philosophies and ideologies in contemporary Romanian society. Happiest Girl looked at the division between the young and old; between the rural and the urban; between those who had grown up under communism and those with a more capitalist mindset. It also looked at film-making (taking place on the set of a commercial), and featured very few characters on even fewer locations. Police, Adjective is no less focussed and no less brimming with ideas. Directed and written by Corneliu Porumboiu (12:08 East of Bucharest), the film follows a cop, Cristi (Drago Bucur Youth Without Youth), as he spends long, slow days observing the routine of some kids who are smoking canabis. The film is about his ethical struggle between doing his job to the letter of the law (literally), and his desire to follow his own, subjective sense of morality. Along the way, the film also quietly paints a picture of urban decay, bureaucracy, and even seems to have fun satirising the conventions of the police procedural genre. There is no action or excitement here: no gun wielding, no interrogations, and he doesn't even have a partner to accompany him on his long, eventless stake-outs, following a child suspected of a petty crime. There is also a great awareness of the hypocrisy of his task, as he offers one child (an informant) cigarettes and alcohol arbitrarily deemed socially acceptable drugs. The detached, ironic voice of Happiest Girl (that title in itself deeply sarcastic) seems to exist here too. Romanian films seem to grasp a basic, day-to-day human absurdity. As the title suggests, the film is also concerned with the nature of language, specifically as a route to meaning. The final exchange between Cristi and his superior is magnificent, ending a mostly silent film with a terrific scene of funny dialogue and top-class acting. What is most brilliant is that Cristi's boss is allowed to convince us with his rational and intelligent philosophical arguement, at odds with the bulk of what we have seen up to that point. Again, all this directed in a single take in front of a still camera. Just as Cristi is observing his young suspects, so we are also invited to spy on him, with most shots positioned between doorways, or some other out-of-focus object. There is a quiet confidence in the Romanian films I have seen, with the directors in complete command of their craft on a fundamental level, never seeming to feel the need to resort to anything showy whilst always remaining artful. Every so often you see a film which surprises you and confirms your love of cinema. This year two such films have come from Romania, making Romanian my personal favourite adjective for 2010.