Film critic AO Scott at the New York Times deemed it the best of 2007, and earlier that year it whomped eventual Oscar victor "No Country for Old Men" to win the Palme d'Or at Cannes. Its title, "4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days," refers to the time elapsed between inadvertent conception and illegal hotel-room abortion. It's a riveting study of the options (un)available to women in late-80's Communist Romania. And while it shouldn't be any sane person's idea of a fun night at the movies - does this even qualify as entertainment? - "4 Months..." is difficult to ignore, with grimly resonant imagery that's impossible to forget.

Set against the dreary Eastern Bloc-ness of an unnamed Romanian city, the minutes chronicled in"4 Months..." tick by in 1987, toward the end of Ceausescu's totalitarian reign. The understated Anamaria Marinca (recently seen in Francis Ford Coppola's "Youth Without Youth") appears in nearly every frame of the film as Otilia, a college student scrambling through hoop after frustrating hoop to ensure that her roommate Gabita's pregnancy ends as planned, via the services of a black-market abortion provider with the creepy name of Mr. Bebe (an icy, menacing Vlad Ivanov).

As it becomes clearer that the lies Gabita (Laura Vasiliu, calmly vulnerable) tells herself have wider repercussions, Mr. Bebe's bedside manner, as it were, tests the limits of their friendship, with a sickening quid pro quo once he explains the difference between unlawful first-trimester abortion and second-trimester murder. Otilia's attempts to juggle commitments to both her helpless friend and her needy boyfriend consume the film's latter half, evidenced skillfully by a prolonged dinner interlude filmed with a stationary camera, Otilia at its center as she listens to grownups and their kids-these-days grousing while preoccupied with genuine matters of life and death.

Though he's certainly not averse to breakneck, handheld urgency, gutsy filmmaker Cristian Mungiu shoots many of his scenes from a fixed point, allowing subjects to wander in and out of the shot and focusing not necessarily on action but on equally interesting (and often more difficult) reaction. Arriving on the heels of the starry-eyed "Juno," "4 Months..." could be considered its real-world response, a very different portrait of love without conditions and choice without alternatives. They don't know how good they have it, kids these days.

Just as Terrence Malick himself was impressed enough by David Gordon Green to co-produce his 2004 film "Undertow," it isn't hard to see why Green was drawn to "Shotgun Stories," the striking debut of writer-director Jeff Nichols. A drowsy Southern town, at once spartan and lush, populated by people who look like people only more so, and a deceptively simple story shrouded in Greek tragedy, "Shotgun Stories" is traditional American yarn-spinning at its purest, brought to cinematic life by subtly gifted actors who often let their silence do the talking.

The recognizable Michael Shannon ("Bug") stars as Son, the eldest of three brothers sired by a brutal drunkard (he didn't bother to name Son, Boy, or Kid) who made another family after finding God. Hostilities at the father's funeral set events into motion: As the conflict escalates between Son's full kin and his younger half-brothers, violent retaliation paves the only road to a lasting truce among the laconic men. And when they're not looking over their collective shoulder, Son, Boy (Douglas Ligon, a total find), and Kid (the goofy, appealing Barlow Jacobs) contemplate women, jobs, and their respective housing crises over beers on the front porch (or in the backyard, next to the van, et cetera).

The plot is compelling all on its own, but it's Nichols' attention to detail that make "Shotgun Stories" this young year's best so far. He clearly knows these folks, one powering a blender with his car battery and lounging by the river, another snagging the good cast-iron as proof she ain't kidding. Nichols' ace-in-the-hole, however, is brother Ben, who fronts Memphis's awesome cowpunks Lucero and provides the score for "Shotgun Stories," with evocative acoustic guitar and pedal steel, plus golden cello that sounds like the sun kissing a cotton field.