2018 Film Review: Roma (2018)

Directed by: Alfonso Cuaron
Written by: Alfonso Cuaron
Starring: Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira, Diego Cortina Autrey
IMDb Link

Roma is much like the main character it portrays: quiet and observant, the true impact of their existence not realised until you consider them wholly.

At first it seems so simple, a year in the life of a maid, Cleo, played with incredible subtlety by Aparicio, as she serves a middle-class family in Mexico City in 1970. The film lulls you in to a sense of monotony and security, silently watching the actions of the characters in their daily lives, almost as a sort of unfeeling, impartial observer, content to relax and take things as they come, no matter how slowly or seemingly uneventful. However, once time has passed and we find ourselves in the same position we started, the little details this observer took in begin to topple over one another like dominoes, straining the lives of Cleo and her family again and again, the occasionally sharp word or long glance instantly far more meaningful than it seemed to be before, as the chaos of life continues to thrash all around them, the world continuing to move forward even though Cleo needs the world to stop for a moment just so that she can properly take in everything that's happening to her and get a handle on it. The shift from calm monotony to chaotic, painfully realistic drama is a slow and unyielding one, starting so softly you might miss it, but never stopping once it does.

What's particularly fascinating and incredible about this film is how Director Cuaron chose to present it. His work here strives to achieve a state of realism above all else, to make the characters here feel like real people, and the world they live in a snap-shot of a real time and place, and Cuaron's techniques work beautifully to that end. His camera rarely moves, slowly when it does, and always with purpose: everything is set up around deliberate frames that convey specific ideas, such as the distance between characters because of class or troubles, and the barriers that disappear when they open up to each other and come together. Even then, the camera never rushes, always moving exactly where and as fast as it means to, and always with the goal of taking things in without forcing intimacy for the sake of emotion, letting the events speak for themselves through the characters, and the background holding it all in place, distinct images appearing like clear memories, creating an intriguing juxtaposition between the reality of the events put on display, the meticulous touch with which they are presented, and the emotions that they draw out because of it. This extends to things the film makes notable as well, such as the sound design in the film. Every sound in the film is diagetic, from the music the plays over the radios to dogs barking in the street, there's considerable detail in the sounds of the world around the characters, giving it this very natural, lived-in feeling that captures the essence of the idea of life moving forward all around us. It's a sublime expression of real life as memory, offering a window in to an experience that is both real and someone's perspective, and the effect of Cuaron's visual techniques and the film's sound design upon this idea is palpable.

Of course, the film is made that much better by its performances. As I've stated, Aparicio is very subtle as Cleo, much of her impact in the film felt in waves as the weight of her minor expressions all build upon one another, and break her down as she finally lets herself process the events of her life. Supporting such natural work is a cast that includes a fiercely energetic and easy to hate performance from Jorge Antonio Guerrero as Fermin, who, put succinctly, is a dick, and a performance that flies effortlessly between the stoic and explosive from Marina de Tavira, in her role as matriarch of the family Cleo serves. Everyone offers an extension to the quiet or the gut-punch to the emotional, hammering home or offering the humanity within each scene, their very real performances the final aspect that assembles this film in to a masterpiece.

The Short Version: In Roma, Cuaron applies his distinct technique and style to a deeply intimate story with a strangely impartial touch, as if he's observing memories from a time and place long gone and looking for meaning within them. This is nothing short of a masterpiece; an unusual, quiet, thoughtful, strangely aloof and yet honest and heartfelt masterpiece.

Rating: 10/10

Published December 22nd, 2018