Alfonso Cuaron is one of my favorite filmmakers working today. Hell, he's one of my favorite filmmakers, period. His films are beautiful: his work ranges from Harry Potter to post-apocalyptic sci-fi to a slice-of-life road trip. He is a keen storyteller, and has made some of the finest films on the market.
I own a subscription to Netflix. Cuaron is one of my favorites. It should not have taken me this long to sit down and watch Roma (2018). But the movie always looked heavy. It looked like a film that you don't just sit and watch.
And, to be fair, I was right. But I sat down and watched it, anyway.
I. What Is It?
Roma is the story of a live-in house maid, Cleo, and the family she serves, in the Colonia Roma neighborhood of Mexico City. It is a story about the search for, separation from and creation of family.II. A Singular Vision
Cuaron wrote the screenplay, directed the film, did the cinematography, and edited the damn thing (that last with the help of Adam Gough). That's an incredible cinematic feat. And the story feels cohesive and intentional for it.
The screenplay is realistic, and the dialogue so natural that it feels like watching a documentary, not a film. This movie often feels like a true story that the audience is granted a window to, and a great deal of that is Cuaron's deft script.
What I liked about this film the most was how stunningly gorgeous its photography was. It is in black and white, but it is also shot with 4k resolution, which means that its imagery is staggeringly detailed and jaw-droppingly pretty to behold. I say "black and white," but that is a disservice to the world of colors that live onscreen, here. There are so many shades of grey and black and white: the world pops off the screen, and never feels boring or monochrome.
Cuaron keeps his camera movements fairly basic: he limits his camera to a fixed position with side-to-side pans, or simple tracking shots. This makes the camera feel like a character watching the story unfold, and it is beautiful in its simplicity.
This story feels deeply personal, and it's no wonder that Cuaron tackled directing, writing, shooting and editing it himself.
The screenplay is realistic, and the dialogue so natural that it feels like watching a documentary, not a film. This movie often feels like a true story that the audience is granted a window to, and a great deal of that is Cuaron's deft script.
What I liked about this film the most was how stunningly gorgeous its photography was. It is in black and white, but it is also shot with 4k resolution, which means that its imagery is staggeringly detailed and jaw-droppingly pretty to behold. I say "black and white," but that is a disservice to the world of colors that live onscreen, here. There are so many shades of grey and black and white: the world pops off the screen, and never feels boring or monochrome.
Cuaron keeps his camera movements fairly basic: he limits his camera to a fixed position with side-to-side pans, or simple tracking shots. This makes the camera feel like a character watching the story unfold, and it is beautiful in its simplicity.
This story feels deeply personal, and it's no wonder that Cuaron tackled directing, writing, shooting and editing it himself.
III. Quiet, Powerful Women
Yalitza Aparicio (Cleo) and Marina De Tavira (Sofia) were both nominated for Academy Awards for their work, here, and, dammit, those nominations are deserved. Both women serve quiet, understated, powerful performances with little flash, but tons of heart.
Cleo is the warrior: she serves her employers, cares for their children, and deals with her own pregnancy and abandonment with a silent strength. In one scene, a strongman attempts to teach a field of trainees how to strike a blind-folded warrior pose (it's a long story), and of all the people there, the martial arts devotees, and the women and children watching on the side, Cleo is the only person on the field who stands in the pose, other than the strongman teaching it. She is a warrior, not for her martial prowess, but for her poise, and her nerve in the face of a life doing its best to beat her down.
Sofia is also a powerful woman. Her husband leaves her for a younger woman. Her world is up-ended: she has to find a way to keep her family together, as she struggles to find a new identity.
This movie doesn't work without a core of heart and soul. Aparicio and De Tavira provide the rock that the film rests on.
It is epic without world-shaking villains, or massive explosions, or elegantly choreographed violence. The pace is deliberate, and ponderous.
This is not just any movie for any time. It needs to be enjoyed in a specific moment, in a mood, in a time where you won't fiddle with your cell-phone, or play on your computer, or be distracted by idle conversation. It's challenging, and heartbreaking, but also compelling and breathtaking. This isn't popcorn entertainment; don't expect it to be. It isn't a feel-good movie; don't expect it to be.
But it is a work of art. It is as close an example of a film as an analogue for a great work of literature that I can think of. It can be studied. It can be analyzed. Everything about this film is deliberate: the choice of black and white, the way the camera moves (or doesn't), the constant use of reflective pools of water, the inclusion of distant planes passing overhead. The film is rife with metaphor and allusion in the way that all great novels are.
It is a film that can tell us about our lives and our world, if we let it.
Cleo is the warrior: she serves her employers, cares for their children, and deals with her own pregnancy and abandonment with a silent strength. In one scene, a strongman attempts to teach a field of trainees how to strike a blind-folded warrior pose (it's a long story), and of all the people there, the martial arts devotees, and the women and children watching on the side, Cleo is the only person on the field who stands in the pose, other than the strongman teaching it. She is a warrior, not for her martial prowess, but for her poise, and her nerve in the face of a life doing its best to beat her down.
Sofia is also a powerful woman. Her husband leaves her for a younger woman. Her world is up-ended: she has to find a way to keep her family together, as she struggles to find a new identity.
This movie doesn't work without a core of heart and soul. Aparicio and De Tavira provide the rock that the film rests on.
IV. The Film as a Novel
This movie is long (135 minutes), its story sprawling and its cast of characters myriad. We experience the destruction of a family, and its resurrection. We watch a student protest put down violently. We see a forest fire nearly rage out of control. We watch tiny people rail against a brutal, often uncaring world.It is epic without world-shaking villains, or massive explosions, or elegantly choreographed violence. The pace is deliberate, and ponderous.
This is not just any movie for any time. It needs to be enjoyed in a specific moment, in a mood, in a time where you won't fiddle with your cell-phone, or play on your computer, or be distracted by idle conversation. It's challenging, and heartbreaking, but also compelling and breathtaking. This isn't popcorn entertainment; don't expect it to be. It isn't a feel-good movie; don't expect it to be.
But it is a work of art. It is as close an example of a film as an analogue for a great work of literature that I can think of. It can be studied. It can be analyzed. Everything about this film is deliberate: the choice of black and white, the way the camera moves (or doesn't), the constant use of reflective pools of water, the inclusion of distant planes passing overhead. The film is rife with metaphor and allusion in the way that all great novels are.
It is a film that can tell us about our lives and our world, if we let it.
VIII. Should You See It?
*** I have included a Trigger Warning section at the bottom of this review, past the Miscellany section, so please check that out if you are interested, or ignore it if you want to approach this film virgin.
Miscellany
- Roma won three Oscars: Best Directing, Best Cinematography and Best Foreign Language Film. It was nominated for seven others: Best motion Picture, Best Actress in a Leading Role, Best Actress in a Supporting Role, Original Screenplay, Production Design, Sound Editing and Sound Mixing. Cuaron is the first person in history to win both Directing and Cinematography awards on the same night.- The hospital delivery scene was shot in one take, and used real doctors and nurses instead of actors to make it feel authentic.
- Cuaron handed out sides for his actors every day, which kept the complete script a mystery to everyone but him. He would also give contradictory directions and explanations to different actors. He said he wanted to emulate the chaos of life on set.
- Cuaron has noted that 90% of the film is lifted directly from his own life and experiences. The film is dedicated to Libo: Libo is the name of the person that the character of Cleo is based on.
- This is the first time Cuaron has acted as his own DP. And he won a fucking Oscar for it.
- At one point, the characters watch Marooned (1969) at the theater: they watch a scene where two astronauts drift through space, reaching out for one another. This is a reference to, and served as an inspiration for Cuaron's film, Gravity (2013).
- Yalitza Aparicio was attempting to become a school teacher and auditioned for the film while waiting for her test results. She auditioned because she was bored and needed something to do. She had never heard of Cuaron before and had never seen any of his movies.
- The film was shot in chronological order. Over the course of 201 days.
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TRIGGER WARNING
This film features the birth of a still-born baby. It is heartbreaking, and unflinching. The film doesn't make light of it, or romanticize it. I wouldn't want to recommend this film to anyone, and contribute to any awakening trauma. Be forewarned.
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