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When you think of prolific, tentpole directors that anchor awards season darlings, like Steven Spielberg or Martin Scorsese, you’ll be forgiven if Alfonso Cuarón isn’t the first name to come to mind. Part of that is likely due to the rarity of his big screen projects: "Roma” is only Cuarón's fourth film over the past fifteen years, his previous three being “Gravity” (2013), a sweeping outer-space spectacle, “Children of Men” (2006), a dystopian science fiction thriller, and “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” the third installment in the fantasy series (2004). Needless to say, that leaves Cuarón with an extremely varied — perhaps even fantastical — filmography in recent years. But his latest release returns to earth with the grounded reality of "Roma,” much of which Cuarón has based on his own childhood memories. Even working on a comparatively smaller scale than he has in his other films, Cuarón breathes life into the titular Mexico City suburb by giving "Roma" a vibrant, beating heart. The beauty of “Roma” lies with its powerful performances, stunningly detailed cinematography, and emotionally rich narrative, elements that are at times undermined by scenes verging on melodrama.
The film revolves around both the hardships faced by domestic worker Cleo Gutiérrez, played by Yalitza Aparicio in her feature film debut, and her relationship with the upper class family she works for — in particular, the matriarch of the family, Sofia (Marina de Tavira). At the core of this film are stunning portrayals of strength and resilience by these two characters with jarringly different socioeconomic backgrounds, as they make tough decisions after being abandoned by the men in their lives. Cleo faces difficulties with her boyfriend, Fermín (Jorge Antonio Guerrera), and Sofia’s irresponsible husband, Dr. Alexander (Fernando Grediaga), is on a vexingly prolonged “business trip.”
"Roma" centers on Cleo’s perspective, and even when her character faces adversity, Aparicio brings a careful generosity to her performance. It feels so natural that her gentle warmth is almost infectious. Cleo deals with Sofia’s children so well that they are perhaps more emotionally attached to her than they are to their mother. Nothing portrays this dynamic better than an early scene in which the family watches television with their arms around each other, and Cleo, after collecting used plates, sits on the floor next to the children on the sofa. An arm reaches out to her before Sofia calls for her service: There is a clear affectionate bond here, but class hierarchy takes precedence over Cleo’s personal relationship with the children. Cuarón interweaves some important socioeconomic context to illustrate this relationship to the audience, namely the stark divisions along class lines and the subsequent political tension between the employers and the employed. With a film already packed tightly with emotional baggage, this context often takes a backseat to the domestic struggles faced by these two characters (mainly Cleo), but is appropriately subtle to give the audience sufficient background.
Cinematography elevates the degree of realism in the film and allows for deep emotional connections with the characters. "Roma" is simply beautiful to look at. Cuarón shot the film in widescreen grayscale, and it’s all too easy to find oneself immersed in his luridly detailed scenes. The camera pans seamlessly through the rooms of the house, weaving in between columns and connecting long scenes of dialogue in takes that seem so natural and visceral that at times, it can feel as if one is encroaching on the privacy of the characters. Cuarón turns the commonplace into spectacle. From the meticulously constructed opening shot of a treacle of soapy water spilling over tiles to reveal in its reflection a window of light, to one of the most unique, cinematic car parking scenes, Cuarón focuses on unquestionably mundane objects and scenarios. Yet there is never a pedestrian shot in the film’s 135 minute runtime.
Many of these carefully crafted moments are so gut-wrenching and painfully resonant that they can be difficult to watch. One scene in particular tackles the theme of loss so intimately that it’s difficult to avert one’s eyes as Cleo tries helplessly to brave through not only a physically taxing struggle but also a grievous bereavement. As the film draws to its conclusion, Cuarón runs the risk of over-sensationalizing Cleo’s heroism in a particularly dramatic scene involving the children under her supervision. Ultimately, however, Cuarón compensates for this minor misstep with the final cathartic moments that wrap up the film, which are more than fulfilling. "Roma" is a poignant experience that will be imprinted in one’s memory for years to come.
“Roma” was released on Netflix in December 2018, has won two Golden Globes, and has been nominated for 10 Academy Awards.
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