Andrei Dascalescu

You’re portraying a subject that many of us would not even notice as being attention worthy. How did you decide to focus on it?

My hope is that those who will notice the film will not regret it. It’s about time, love, old-age and happiness, but also about death, bitterness and lack of time. I’ve come to focus on this subject by learning a lot from Constantin and Elena: to be happy for what you have, instead of regretting what you don’t, or can’t have. They go through everything together. Unfortunately, we don’t get a recipe for their incredible, timeless love. But we see it exists. I wanted to show people that there’s hope, there’s love, and there’s happiness in this world.

You’re a very young director; you just graduated from the editing class of the National Film University in Bucharest. What made you decide to make the step towards directing and what was it like to play so many parts in the film’s production? How did you manage, for instance, to pitch the project to a foreign producer and actually convince him to finance you?

It was challenging. I never decided to become a director, definitely didn’t think of being a producer, and the camera was always just a hobby. I just made the film. I couldn’t have had any crew at the shootings, as this would’ve ruined the relationship with the characters. As far as the financing is concerned I remember what one of my idols, with whom I’ve had the chance to work, Walter Murch, said that to be a brilliant filmmaker you need any two of these three: hard work, talent and luck. I think I have luck, I am not sure about which of the other two. I went to a pitching workshop at Lisbon Docs, followed by a pitch. I’d already been shooting for more than a year back then, so I showed a trailer and I talked about the project. It seems that the 7 minutes I had for my pitch were enough for some of the commissioning editors to fall in love with my characters, and consider my project.

Why did you decide to shoot the film the way you did? Wasn’t it difficult to make the entire film out of very long and still shots, with no camera movement whatsoever?

What amazes me now is that from the first tape I shot, two and a half years ago, I found my style. The fixed camera is my way of observing. I let the viewer choose his place of interest, I don’t zoom or pan. I let everything happen. I think this style also gives dignity to my characters. It was difficult, and I’ve lost a lot of good moments, because I didn’t want to move the camera. But I think it’s worth it.

What was the interaction with the two main characters like, considering you are their grandson? What about the other characters from the village? How come everybody acted so naturally without noticing your camera?

Constantin and Elena, my grandparents, got used to the camera very quickly. It became a part of their home. Sometimes I left it in their room, even when I wasn’t there. And I don’t think they ever took me too seriously, which was vital for the film. In two years of shooting, the neighbors got used to me as well, after the first "take a photo of me" reactions.

How did the fact that you worked as Walter Murch’s assistant editor influenced your career and your views on filmmaking? Did he help you in the process of making this film in any way?

After I worked with Walter Murch, I got a lot of offers for editing jobs, which I refused because I had stubbornly decided to make this film. Walter Murch was the first ever to see Constantin and Elena, in a short edit I actually made for him, as part of a present (a little handmade carpet from Elena). He was the one who advised me to make a film about my grandparents, so this was the start of everything. Later, he watched rough-cuts of my film, and advised me on the structure and the cuts. This was absolutely amazing, to have my idol as my advisor.

Anamaria Chioveanu & Rareş Kövesdi