3 1/2 stars = Very good
Ratings explained

Bargaining, borrowing and bartering are ways of life in 1987 Romania, and that includes the procurement of an illegal abortion.

The chillingly titled "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days" tracks two college roommates through the black market, where there's not a coat hanger or back alley in sight but an abortionist paradoxically called Mr. Bebe (Vlad Ivanov). He holds all the cards, and he abuses each one in his hand.

The student who wants the abortion is Gabita (Laura Vasiliu), but it's her take-charge friend, Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), who makes the elaborate arrangements. There is space to be secured, money to be collected, rendezvous to be executed and, as it turns out, an additional, sickening tariff to be paid.

"Young lady, this isn't a game. We could go to prison for this. Both of us. Only I'd face a longer sentence," Bebe tells Gabita.

Before he was deposed and executed in 1989, former Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu prohibited birth control and abortion as a way to boost his country's population. A study later said more than 10,000 women died from illegal abortions (the movie's publicity puts that toll at 500,000) and roughly 200,000 children placed in orphanages during the 23-year ban.

Writer-director Cristian Mungiu was inspired by a true story a woman told him 15 years ago, and he shoots the movie almost documentary style, cranking up the tension and the divide between generations during an interminable birthday dinner.

A big winner at the Cannes Film Festival, the movie is spare and graphic, and abortion opponents and proponents can probably watch the movie and take away entirely different messages. But it conveys a sense of the desperation felt by Romanian women (and it's women here, not couples) of the time in a way that's as horrible as it is haunting.

Not rated but adult in nature. Opens today at the Manor.

-- Barbara Vancheri, PG movie editor

3 stars = Good
Ratings explained

Rabih is like the caramel Layale uses to strip away unwanted hair from her beauty-salon clients. The sticky mixture of sugar, lemon juice and water (a Middle Eastern version of the wax American salons use) can be delicious or it can burn her, just like her married boyfriend.

Layale, played by director and co-writer Nadine Labaki, is one of five women who work at or patronize a beauty salon in Beirut. The language may be Arabic or French, but the gossip and concerns are familiar: weddings, affairs, family obligations, flirtations, looking youthful and more voluminous hair.

Salon owner Layale, a single 30-year-old who lives with her parents, is obsessed with her married boyfriend's wife, while bride-to-be Nisrine has her own wedding worries. Menopausal actress Jamale frets about aging, and 65-year-old seamstress Rose is preoccupied with her older crazy sister. Shampoo girl Rima, meanwhile, takes unspoken pleasure in shampooing a female customer's long, lustrous hair.

In 96 minutes, "Caramel" expertly sketches these women's lives through moments small and large and conveys a snapshot of their world and the refuge the salon provides. Most of the roles are played by nonprofessionals, which lends an authenticity to the movie, often bathed in golden light.

It's not profound, but it is familiar and touching.

Rated PG for thematic elements involving sexuality, language and some smoking. With English subtitles. Opens today at Squirrel Hill Theater.

-- Barbara Vancheri