Sometimes you have to mix things up. You wouldn't spend the rest of your days eating at the same restaurant every week or listening to a track on repeat (unless it's TheComparison podcast, then we'd understand), so why settle for consistency when it comes to accomplishment? of movies?
Sure, action hero movies with guns, skydiving, and supervillains are great, but it's refreshing to find a movie that challenges everything you thought you loved about movies. Especially when it is in use and you already have it at home.
Fortunately, Netflix is all about variety, and the world's most popular streaming platform has invested in storytelling from all walks of life - and from all corners of the globe - to provide subscribers with a cavern of choice. of Aladdin. Roma, Alfonso Cuarón's semi-autobiographical portrait of a year in the life of a housekeeper in Mexico City, is one of those masterful films hidden among the blockbusters.
You might remember the buzz surrounding this black and white slow burner at the 2019 Oscars. It won Oscars for Best Foreign Language Film, Best Cinematography, and Best Director, and was hailed as one of those rare pictures that harmoniously blends impressive performances, beautiful camerawork, and a sense of social importance. It's easy to roll your eyes at the awards season pomp and circumstance and critical jargon going around, but Rome truly deserves the praise it receives, and is worth another visit in 2021.
Roma is a candid, honest, and sometimes painful experience that deserves to be seen on the big screen — the late-night, huddled-laptop routine Netflix is famous for doesn't quite do Cuarón's cinematic justice. In 2019 we wrote an article on why you have to see Rome in a Dolby cinema, and while Covid-19 means there's no way it's going to happen anytime soon, the feeling is still even.
The story follows Cleo, in a compelling first performance by Yalitza Aparicio, as she navigates the struggles of her own life and those of her employers, a middle-class family suffering from the consequences of a divorce. Cuarón never sensationalizes events, nor does he pull melodrama by focusing on the individual emotions of his characters. Rather, his cinematography captures the necessary moments of emotion, humor, and contextual confusion in equal measure, creating a captivating yet compelling image of life in XNUMXs Mexico.
Roma represents a poignant moment of reflection in the career of a director known for his affinity for science fiction -Cuarón counts Gravity and Children of Men among his credits- and proves to be a powerful watch for any movie fan for its ability to beautify cinema. banal appearance.
(Image credit: Netflix) It's not a fast or easy watch, but there are plenty of parts of Rome to behold on an audiovisual level. Much of this is due to the director's mastery of the camera. Cuarón is known for his ability to transform the most monotonous subjects into captivating cinematic pieces: remember the spooky playground from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, or the famous 6-minute single from Children of Men? - and it's a skill no more obvious than here. The opening sequence, for example, sees the camera focus on wet tiles that become, thanks to the positioning of the lens, reflective of the sky. Birds and planes cross the screen while the camera continues to point at the ground, and the scene evolves into a dichotomy between the boredom of housework and the hustle and bustle of the outside world. Cuarón likes to use this trick multiple times, at least he likes to insist on the ordinary at every opportunity. For the most part, this produces the desired effect and undeniably confirms his gift for the camera. Sometimes his commitment to dazzling the viewer with technique wears off slightly, but the personal nature of the project gives Cuarón the license to experiment. Seeing Rome is like having a guided tour in an art gallery. Everything you look at is unmistakably beautiful and while sometimes you want things to move a little faster, it's worth taking a moment to step back and appreciate the craftsmanship presented. The monochrome filter helps the film in two ways. This gives the setting a timeless quality—the story could be set at any point in the last 50 years—that serves as a mechanism to point out the pervasive problems of family turmoil, as well as the monotony of household chores. It also emphasizes the fundamental power of the moving image. Ten minutes later, and the black-and-white film may as well turn into glorious Technicolor. It's an obviously artistic move that won't appeal to everyone, but it nonetheless sets Rome apart from the cowardly security of mainstream cinema. Yalitza Aparicio is fantastic in the lead role – it's the emotion of her mannerisms and her ability to dictate subtle facial changes that makes her such an exciting new talent. Marina de Tavira is also excellent in her portrayal of the firm but fragile Sofía, the mother of four who is unexpectedly thrown into the role of head of the family for her. It all feels very real, which is what you think is the point of any movie, and it's the performances that anchor that sense of authenticity. In the end, Rome is bold and brilliant, a masterful image that succeeds almost without a hitch. Watch it for the first time. Look again. Then return to the multiverse madness of Hollywood blockbusters.