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Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Roma (2018) in Movies
Mar 2, 2020 (Updated Mar 3, 2020)
I watched Roma exactly a week ago today. And although I knew 20 minutes in that I loved it, and at the end that I really loved it, I have taken that time to let it settle within me in before coming to write about it. Some films are so good that you have to do that: let it sink into you fully, before doing anything so trivial as judging and comparing them. Roma is incomparable! I have never seen anything like it, or felt as deeply moved by a film in a long time.
Not that it didn’t get attention at the time of its release, it did, receiving 10 Oscar nominations and winning 3, for best foreign language film, director and cinematography, but it certainly wasn’t seen by as many people as it should have been, despite its presence on Netflix from the start. Having digested it now, and spending some time reading about how and why it was made, I feel a slight mission to recommend it to as many people as I can.
Based on Alfonso Cuarón’s own childhood in Mexico City, and his memories of his family and especially their housemaid, Liboria (Libo) Rodriguez, to whom the film is dedicated, it is a masterpiece labour of love that few directors ever achieve or even attempt to make. After a strong career of exceptional films, including Y Tu Mamá También, Children of Men and Gravity, it was the box office and critical success of the latter that gave Cuarón carte blanche to go and make whatever project he chose. Where many might have been tempted by the big money of superhero or fantasy movies (for which he had some experience with Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) he went back to his roots and shot a very personal non-English film, in black and white, where no music exists except that which occurs naturally, and on the surface not much happens.
At least it feels like not much is happening, such is the naturalistic, almost improvised (although it wasn’t) style and pace; shot with a lens capturing detail and nuance with some of the most beautiful photography I have ever had the privilege to see. Truly, an awful lot is happening, but you have to feel and experience it, not simply be told it by the narrative. It takes a while for our Hollywood conditioned brains to accept this at first, and many might come to it and give up half an hour in because of that challenge. I can promise, however, there is not a single thing boring about this film, unless humanity is boring.
Oscar nominated lead Yalitza Aparicio as the shy, loving maid, Cleo, was not an actor before this film. She auditioned and was hand picked by Cuarón from hundreds of young women, without knowing who he was or what the film was about. Apparently, the film was shot in sequence so as not to confuse her emotionally on her extraordinary journey. She is so unassuming and natural that part of you falls in love with her immediately. In time, we almost come to forget we are watching an act at all, and almost become her, such is the empathy she evokes.
Which isn’t an easy ride, as we watch her be gently and then cruelly ignored, mistreated and used; climaxing in one of the most astonishingly painful and jaw-dropping scenes imaginable, and then a scene of such powerful redemption and humanity it instantly breaks the heart and lifts the soul. All the while she never asks for attention or love, but is just herself: a young woman living a difficult but beautiful life in a country and time full of turmoil, prejudice and social change.
The recreation of Mexico in 1970 is so breathtaking, it is hard to imagine at times we are not watching a documentary from that era. But, it is the detail the lens chooses to capture that reminds you this is a visual poem and a love-letter to a time, a place and a family far away in history and the memory of one man (represented by ten year old Carlos Peralta as Paco). At times it evokes the work of the very greatest film artists of all time: Bergman, Fellini, Hitchcock etc. Not one image is wasted or insignificant, from the reflection of the sky in water, to the dog-shit constantly lining the driveway. Everything is chosen and meaningful in the full context of the work.
There is no awkward exposition, no dramatic moments milked for all they are worth, no sequences of heightened excitement that manipulate us; simply truthful moments that hang in the air for what they are, leaving us to decide how we relate to them without ever preaching or teaching us how. In that way, it is a work of such maturity that I doubt many living directors could emulate it at all. The closest comparison I can think of is the personal passion Spielberg put into Shindler’s List, but really it is a moot comparison, and in fact owes much more to films like Haneke’s The White Ribbon.
Can it be faulted? Well, yes, certainly. But, honestly, I don’t see the point in trying. It is as close to perfection a small story of this kind can be. Importantly, I think it is an open film, that allows us to take from it whatever we like, relating to our own experiences and cares. For me, it said that any pain and hardship can be overcome, as long as there is love and beauty walking by its side. A message of no small importance. If you haven’t seen it, I urge you to do so. If you have, then please keep spreading the word. I believe it to be a genuine classic that will endure the criticism of many decades to come. Without a doubt in my mind something very special indeed.
Not that it didn’t get attention at the time of its release, it did, receiving 10 Oscar nominations and winning 3, for best foreign language film, director and cinematography, but it certainly wasn’t seen by as many people as it should have been, despite its presence on Netflix from the start. Having digested it now, and spending some time reading about how and why it was made, I feel a slight mission to recommend it to as many people as I can.
Based on Alfonso Cuarón’s own childhood in Mexico City, and his memories of his family and especially their housemaid, Liboria (Libo) Rodriguez, to whom the film is dedicated, it is a masterpiece labour of love that few directors ever achieve or even attempt to make. After a strong career of exceptional films, including Y Tu Mamá También, Children of Men and Gravity, it was the box office and critical success of the latter that gave Cuarón carte blanche to go and make whatever project he chose. Where many might have been tempted by the big money of superhero or fantasy movies (for which he had some experience with Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) he went back to his roots and shot a very personal non-English film, in black and white, where no music exists except that which occurs naturally, and on the surface not much happens.
At least it feels like not much is happening, such is the naturalistic, almost improvised (although it wasn’t) style and pace; shot with a lens capturing detail and nuance with some of the most beautiful photography I have ever had the privilege to see. Truly, an awful lot is happening, but you have to feel and experience it, not simply be told it by the narrative. It takes a while for our Hollywood conditioned brains to accept this at first, and many might come to it and give up half an hour in because of that challenge. I can promise, however, there is not a single thing boring about this film, unless humanity is boring.
Oscar nominated lead Yalitza Aparicio as the shy, loving maid, Cleo, was not an actor before this film. She auditioned and was hand picked by Cuarón from hundreds of young women, without knowing who he was or what the film was about. Apparently, the film was shot in sequence so as not to confuse her emotionally on her extraordinary journey. She is so unassuming and natural that part of you falls in love with her immediately. In time, we almost come to forget we are watching an act at all, and almost become her, such is the empathy she evokes.
Which isn’t an easy ride, as we watch her be gently and then cruelly ignored, mistreated and used; climaxing in one of the most astonishingly painful and jaw-dropping scenes imaginable, and then a scene of such powerful redemption and humanity it instantly breaks the heart and lifts the soul. All the while she never asks for attention or love, but is just herself: a young woman living a difficult but beautiful life in a country and time full of turmoil, prejudice and social change.
The recreation of Mexico in 1970 is so breathtaking, it is hard to imagine at times we are not watching a documentary from that era. But, it is the detail the lens chooses to capture that reminds you this is a visual poem and a love-letter to a time, a place and a family far away in history and the memory of one man (represented by ten year old Carlos Peralta as Paco). At times it evokes the work of the very greatest film artists of all time: Bergman, Fellini, Hitchcock etc. Not one image is wasted or insignificant, from the reflection of the sky in water, to the dog-shit constantly lining the driveway. Everything is chosen and meaningful in the full context of the work.
There is no awkward exposition, no dramatic moments milked for all they are worth, no sequences of heightened excitement that manipulate us; simply truthful moments that hang in the air for what they are, leaving us to decide how we relate to them without ever preaching or teaching us how. In that way, it is a work of such maturity that I doubt many living directors could emulate it at all. The closest comparison I can think of is the personal passion Spielberg put into Shindler’s List, but really it is a moot comparison, and in fact owes much more to films like Haneke’s The White Ribbon.
Can it be faulted? Well, yes, certainly. But, honestly, I don’t see the point in trying. It is as close to perfection a small story of this kind can be. Importantly, I think it is an open film, that allows us to take from it whatever we like, relating to our own experiences and cares. For me, it said that any pain and hardship can be overcome, as long as there is love and beauty walking by its side. A message of no small importance. If you haven’t seen it, I urge you to do so. If you have, then please keep spreading the word. I believe it to be a genuine classic that will endure the criticism of many decades to come. Without a doubt in my mind something very special indeed.
