Year: 1900
Director: Alfonso Cuaron
It’s weird how films can happen now. Time was when your local cinema got Star Wars six months after you read the reviews, and three months after the city centre Odeon. Then in the eighties films started to be in every single cinema in the world the day after the reviews came out, or the day before in the case of Steven Seagal movies. Now we’re back to the throttling of supply once more, only instead of your local fleapit being at the back of the queue, it’s anyone who doesn’t have Netflix. Roma, one of the foreign language releases of the year, by A-lister Alfonso Cuaron (Gravity, Children of Men, some Harry Potters) was in a few cinemas for a couple of week to get it into the Oscar listings. Then – bang- straight back behind the Netflix paywall to be a footsoldier in the streaming wars. Take that Prime.
Which is how I watched this film, on a friend’s reasonably large telly this Sunday. And if there’s a film I would go straight to the cinema to see it on a proper film screen it’s this. To the film’s overall tone of nostalgia and bittersweet memory we can add our own, for not being quick enough off the blocks to enjoy it as it so clearly needs to be enjoyed, on the big screen.
The film’s a deeply autobiographical work drawing on Cuaron’s middle-class upbringing in a large family living in seventies Mexico City – in the vein of Fanny and Alexander, Hope and Glory and 400 Blows. In atmosphere and authenticity it is every bit their equals, and like them draws superb performances out of young performers. The plot centres on two women: the wife Sofia and servant and nanny Cleo. Both are left by their partners and have to work out how to go forwards without these absent fathers. At the start of the film Sofia’s husband disappears, we are told as the children are, that he’s on a business trip in Quebec for research, in fact he’s scarpered. Cleo’s lover also does a runner in the middle of the film, after she tells him she’s pregnant.
But that’s not what you’ll come away remembering. Cuaron is interested – obsessed by perhaps – recreating the Mexico City of his childhood, as a place overflowing with endless people, activity and action. Virtually every scene begins with a long shot, often tracked, that roves up a street or across a crowded foyer. Cuaron’s attention to detail becomes overwhelming, even decadent. At times he recreates because he can, rather than to advance the story.
To take one example. Cleo attempts to track down her absent lover and after a bus trip she walks through a shantytown, all mud and culverts of dirty water. But she’s seen in longshot and in the background is not just a political rally, in which we hear radical politics agitating the assembled crowd, but as part of the rally there’s a human cannon in which – while Cleo walks – we watch a man get in, and be fired across the shot into a waiting net. All this takes place in the far distance.
Every shot is beautifully lit, framed and moved in, what else, gorgeous black and white. Even the family house is in constant motion – children rushing in and out, plates being laid and removed, sofas crowded by squashed-up family members. This dream-like atmosphere works superbly in the first hour, in which the wonder of the city and the teeming family home is more than enough. The longer the film goes, and it’s the now regulation 2 hrs 15 mins, the more the lack of drama starts to impinge. There are moments of jeopardy, and private tragedy, but they feel not quite earned. There’s a moment where public and private clash together that’s altogether too neat, and a moment of jeopardy at the very end that’s quite bizarre. Possibly the first time that the need to check tyre pressures has been the prelude to (almost) tragedy.
There is lots to love about this movie, and anyone who is a sucker for the myth of the auteur will enjoy this hugely, particularly when the – an – origin of Gravity comes up: the family troop off to see late-sixties Hollywood space potboiler Marooned! But – perhaps I’m carping – his heart is in the miraculous recreation of Mexico City at a Synecdoche, New York level, rather than the story.
Might appeal to people who enjoyed:
The aforementioned childhood of the director films.
Long shots.
Admins @rich the year thing picker still does not work on Chrome. It’s 2018 obvs.
Thx for the review – I’m looking forward to seeing this, and you’ve managed not to spoil it for me. I love Cuaron’s eye for detail, those long extravagant shots that wallow in the power of the cinematic, and his gentle touch that seems to deliver a lot of story without you realising that its happening.
We missed the (all too brief) chance to see this at the local Vue, so I was starting to hunt around for a decent torrent copy. My bacon has been saved by my little brother, who came to visit last weekend and left us with his Netflix logon to share – my first port of call will be Roma at the weekend!
Saw it last week in that London.
Beautiful film. Quite exquisite. And very moving. The work of a master.
(oh, and thanks for your fine review, molesey. Good stuff).
Great review. Now that’s an old movie! Seems to be currently showing in an arthouse cinema here in Ottawa.
Btw I think aligned release dates came much later than the 80s. Probably in the early part of this century when it became easier to distribute material online and DVDs started being released earlier.
Terrific review, mm – astutely observed and reflected upon.
I can only concur that it is a cinematic treat of the first order, and very moving indeed.
‘sumptuous’ and ‘ magnificent’ were the words that sprang to mind when I was mentioning to the family. I saw it on TV with nice headphones on – a bonus, as the soundscape was as glorious as I’d heard it was. Birdsong, endless traffic, brass bands & laughter & shouts brilliantly evoked Mexico City of 1970/71.
I read a Guardian piece on how it has prompted a mixture of nostalgia for the sense of the certainties of the past and guilt for the treatment of the indigenous ‘servant class’ amongst middle class Brazilians who’ve seen it.
I was quite taken aback by the number of snippy comments under the piece, the vast majority of which (predictably for non cineastes) complained bitterly that it wasn’t the film they would have made & accusing it of being complacent & ‘ bourgeois’ – blind to the fact that the film spoke volumes politically without ever resorting to a lecturing tone.
Netflix have obviously gone all out for prestige with this movie – the director, the epic scope, the detailed composition & they badly want Oscars etc. – none of that should detract from the fact that this as good an example of cinema as you’ll see anywhere in any era.
Yeah, it’s more usually an inattention to tread depth that’s the precursor to tragedy.
Your description of patient, lingering shots basking in temps perdu detail put me in mind of Sylvain Chomet’s recreation of Edinburgh in his beautifully animated film The Illusionist
p.s. thanks for the review!
I’m rather hoping it gets something at the Oscars as that might prompt a few screenings at our local Cinema.
If I know I am going to see a film, I tend to avoid the reviews until afterwards. So you must forgive me @moselymoles for only getting to reading your fine piece of writing now.
Netflix has been extremely restrictive about cinema screenings of Roma here in Sweden. Which is ridiculous considering what an epic, big-screen film it is, so full of details.
Anyway for some reason, Netflix allowed Swedish film clubs, such as the one we have at our local cinema, Biograf Reflexen, to screen it, during a limited period. So I have been waiting all season for our screening. I was a little nervous. Would it live up to all the hype? It did and how!
I too thought of great masters of the cinema who have re-created their childhood in loving detail. I would add Fellini’s Amarcord to your list. Are there any more films we could add to that list?
One of the things which Cuarón pays great attention to detail with is the music. This article explains all the trouble they went to:
https://remezcla.com/features/film/music-roma-cuaron/
And here is a playlist featuring many of the songs.
There is also an excellent playlist on Spotify of songs inspired by the film Roma. All sorts of interesting artists appear on that.
A rather good Roma story. Cuaron dug deep into his childhood memories when making the film. One thing he remembered was a Scandinavian family…..
Kjartan Halvorsen is a Norwegian professor working in Mexico City. He was at a May 17th party
(Norwegian National Day) at the embassy a while back when he got talking to someone from a film company who asked if he would be interested in appearing in a film. All very hush hush, no details.
He got the role as the Norwegian bloke in the odd, Wookie-like outfit, who is the life and soul of the New Year’s Eve party. If you have seen Roma, you will remember the moment when all the guests are outside putting out a fire when he suddenly out of the blue bursts into song.
This is what he sings
And here for Locust and our other Norwegian speakers is the full story.
https://filterfilmogtv.no/slik-fikk-en-norsk-professor-filmdebutere-i-netflix-nye-storfilm/?fbclid=IwAR0Qq0vniy0lbYZBpt9VaLf7fbSzWhJSuXfgiHTHUuD6lILzTnG4_O8yGPU
Kjartan was not alone in having no acting experience. Many of those appearing were amateurs or first timers, not least Yalitza Aparicio, who plays Cleo, the family maid who is at the centre of the story. To help her overcome her nervousness, Cuaron arranged a meeting with Libo, Liboria Rodriguez Meza, on whom Cleo is based and to who the film is dedicated. She worked for the Cuaron family for 58 years and has known the Gravity Hitmaker, since he was born.
https://www.proceso.com.mx/572039/entrevista-con-libo-la-mujer-que-rie-de-todo-menos-de-roma?fbclid=IwAR28LD7G39Ni2SqbYz0Ln3DO533NZDGEVsfw7L7arcIwIHJqCRshmanV5ys
Alfonso talking about her on CNNs Spanish channel..
Thanks to Alfonso, Libo has now travelled the world. Her favourite visit was Ireland because of the greenery, But unlike Cleo in the film, she has never been to Vera Cruz.
I just watched this fairly recently as well. It’s great, really mesmeric. The cliché when making a period-type film is to go all soft focus, but the super-hi-def monochrome works wonderfully here.
Talking of directors making mesmeric films based on their childhood memories, I’ve just been given the Criterion Blu-Ray of Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life. That film sometimes gets ridiculed a bit for the Christian symbolism and, er, the dinosaurs, but I love it. And this is a new 3 hours plus extended version! Can’t wait to watch it.
I love the film too, Arthur – it’s in my all time top 10.
For my money it’s what cinema is meant to be – an all encompassing experience, not all of which makes literal sense but which is capable of evoking huge emotive responses. I just might have to get that Blu Ray – it’s stunning on good quality headphones by the way.
Three hours! I suspect that when directors get autobiographical, they want to go for the Full Monty. Fanny and Alexander is three hours long and that is the short version.
Good point about the lack of soft focus.
Come on cinephiles! There must be a few more autobiographical movies.
Aren’t all films at least three hours these days? That’s one thing that puts me off. People go in to see even superhero movies clean-shaven, and come out with a beard. And that’s just the women. Oho!
This Fellows chap does marvelous graphs and statistics on movie-related stuff. His site is a joy.
Here is his take on film length.
https://stephenfollows.com/are-hollywood-movies-getting-longer/