The final hours of an old man in Romania. It's billed as a comedy but the only laughs are of the blackest kind as our increasingly incoherent hero is shuttled round a number of hospitals busy with the aftermath of a bus crash, receives a number of lectures about his alcohol intake and is often ignored, but never quite gets the treatment he needs - on one occasion the reason is that by this time he is incapable of signing the necessary form.

It's all improvised, and all terribly mundane with the camera keeping a polite distance, but a very touching relationship builds with a kindly and determined paramedic.

Director/co-writer Cristi Puiu has fashioned a documentary-style work that stays with you for its dogged persistence, its refusal to dramatise and splendidly natural acting. I'm prone to complain about excessive length, but here the 150 minutes is necessary to give an almost realtime feel to Mr Lazarescu's ordeal.

Based on a true story, it won Puiu the Un Certain Regard award at Cannes amid a number of international trophies.