2018’s Roma, written
and directed by Alfonso Cuarón.
Starring Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira, Fernando
Grediaga, Verónica García, Diego Cortina Autrey, Carlos Peralta, Marco Graf, Daniela
Demesa, Nancy García García, Jorge Antonio Guerrero, and José Manuel Guerrero
Mendoza.
Nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture, Best Director (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Actress (Yalitza Aparicio), Best Supporting Actress (Marina de Tavira), Best Original Screenplay (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Cinematography (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Foreign Film, Best Production Design (Eugenio Caballero and Bárbara Enríquez), Best Sound Editing (Sergio Díaz and Skip Lievsay), and Best Sound Mixing (Skip Lievsay, Craig Henighan and José Antonio García).
What is it about?
Roma is
director Alfonso Cuarón’s homage to his childhood experiences. Based in 1970’s
Mexico City (Roma is a neighbourhood set within it) a housekeeper, Cleo (Yalitza
Aparicio), works in a home with its Mother, Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and Father, Antonio (Fernando Grediaga), Grandmother, Teresa (Verónica García), and 4 children, Tono, Paco, Pepe, and Sofi (Diego Cortina Autrey, Carlos Peralta, Marco
Graf, and Daniela Demesa). Amidst a chaotic political landscape, and in streets
teeming with the clamour of everyday life, Cleo tends to the home and takes
care of the children. The family has their respective domestic dramas that Cleo
is a part of, while she has own private life that demands her attention.
Inevitably the 2 worlds collide, as Cleo has to choose which one she is going
to belong to.
Why is it worth seeing?
Roma was a film
festival darling for obvious reasons. Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón‘s loving
homage to his childhood is one of the most lavishly shot movies of the year.
Shot in classical black and white, Cuarón focuses his auteur camera on the
intensely personal lives of a housekeeper and the family, meant to represent
memories of his childhood. While his subjects of adoration calibrate in his
nostalgic foreground, Mexico’s frenzied political environment (and Mexico
City’s bustling chaos) whirl around in the background. It’s as much a love
letter to his housekeeper and family, as it is the city and country he grew up
in.
Like any patient love letter, Cuarón takes his time in
delving the personal, mundane features of everyday life for a nanny. Amidst a
background of chaotic political unrest and class warfare (a Cuarón staple), we
marinate in a languid milieu of washing floors, cleaning up after others- and
saving children’s lives. It’s a tapestry of the ups and downs of every
day life, through the lens of a confident master who seems to be peaking in his
career at the same time as when he’s telling the auto biographical.
Centred in that tapestry, we are introduced to the subject of Cuarón’s childhood, the nanny as played by incredible newcomer, Yalitza Aparicio. It’s a moving performance, as natural as a leaf floating down a river, and it pays great tribute to the stability the housekeeper must have provided Cuarón who grew up in a home with estranged parents. She says little- but goes through so much. Anyone who isn’t impacted by some of her more life (and death) affirming moments, is made of stone.
I came to Roma with great expectations. As mentioned, it features a gargantuan amount of art house hype, and Cuarón’s Children of Men is probably my favourite movie of all time (not to mention my love for Prisoner of Azkaban as my favourite Harry Potter, and of course, the sublime Y Tu Mama Tambien). So despite its technical mastery (seriously, is Cuarón’s usual cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, out of a job now?), it was difficult to say why some it left me a little flat. Now, a slightly underwhelming Cuarón film is still better than 95% of the movies out there, and basically my challenges with the picture are essentially reasons why it won’t be my #1 favourite film of the year. They are:
Centred in that tapestry, we are introduced to the subject of Cuarón’s childhood, the nanny as played by incredible newcomer, Yalitza Aparicio. It’s a moving performance, as natural as a leaf floating down a river, and it pays great tribute to the stability the housekeeper must have provided Cuarón who grew up in a home with estranged parents. She says little- but goes through so much. Anyone who isn’t impacted by some of her more life (and death) affirming moments, is made of stone.
I came to Roma with great expectations. As mentioned, it features a gargantuan amount of art house hype, and Cuarón’s Children of Men is probably my favourite movie of all time (not to mention my love for Prisoner of Azkaban as my favourite Harry Potter, and of course, the sublime Y Tu Mama Tambien). So despite its technical mastery (seriously, is Cuarón’s usual cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, out of a job now?), it was difficult to say why some it left me a little flat. Now, a slightly underwhelming Cuarón film is still better than 95% of the movies out there, and basically my challenges with the picture are essentially reasons why it won’t be my #1 favourite film of the year. They are:
-While the movie is clearly Cleo’s, it feels like Cuarón’s emphasis
on the background, that is, the political and sociological themes of 1970’s
Mexico, whether it be the crowded city streets or a rally going on that
emphasizes what people are up in arms about, takes away from us being able to
identify as well as we could with Cleo. She’s a quiet figure who keeps to
herself, but her attempts to connect with a baby’s father suggest that she
wants to start a family for herself, to do more than simply exist and clean up
dog shit, and have some degree of control over her life. These kind of
character motivations are undermined by Cuarón’s emphasis on showing her as a
tiny figure being engulfed by Mexico’s chaotic everyday life. The scenes where
we do get to focus intently on just her are too few, and she gets lost in the
hubbub. Do I want to watch her, at times silently watching her masters, or a
bunch of shadowy figures throwing water on fires? In Children of Men and especially Y
Tu Mama Tambien, the background is always an accompanying supporting
character, but here the background at times threatens to diminish our quietly amazing
protagonist.
-A lack of redeemable male characters. We know whose show this is, as Cuarón clearly has a sanctity for the women in his life who helped to raise him, but to see this movie is to assume that men are generally good for nothing. The most positive things that were witnessed from the men in the film, is putting out forest fires, and Cleo’s cousin, Ramón, taking Cleo to see her ex-boyfriend, Fermín, against Fermín’s wishes. That’s it. If Children of Men was about a world without children, this is what a world looks like without men. Oh, they’re around- squabbling, violent, entitled, overgrown boys in search of entertainment (or a cause). But there are no men. Masculine figures, full of leadership qualities who support their family, love their partner and children unconditionally, step up to the plate when needed- zilch.
-To some extent, I agree with Adam Nayman’s assertion that it feels at times like we’re supposed to be applauding the long, panning takes from the camera. They’re nice, and patiently engrossing, but they aren’t that memorable- save for the ocean scene.
-A lack of redeemable male characters. We know whose show this is, as Cuarón clearly has a sanctity for the women in his life who helped to raise him, but to see this movie is to assume that men are generally good for nothing. The most positive things that were witnessed from the men in the film, is putting out forest fires, and Cleo’s cousin, Ramón, taking Cleo to see her ex-boyfriend, Fermín, against Fermín’s wishes. That’s it. If Children of Men was about a world without children, this is what a world looks like without men. Oh, they’re around- squabbling, violent, entitled, overgrown boys in search of entertainment (or a cause). But there are no men. Masculine figures, full of leadership qualities who support their family, love their partner and children unconditionally, step up to the plate when needed- zilch.
-To some extent, I agree with Adam Nayman’s assertion that it feels at times like we’re supposed to be applauding the long, panning takes from the camera. They’re nice, and patiently engrossing, but they aren’t that memorable- save for the ocean scene.
Again, all of this isn’t to bury Roma-
but to determine its place in history. Cuarón (already well established in
Hollywood) takes us on a ride that we are helpless not to be affected by, and we
are the better for it. There are some who will find Roma overrated as a masterpiece- but flawless in its technical
merits. It has a lot of heart, and as a biographical time capsule it’s one of the
most moving memorials to the past you will ever see. It’s clarity may be
obscured by time- but its heart never is.
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