Formula: Gravity ^ -1
Before I break down my thoughts about Roma, I
do need to talk about something else, to cover my ass if nothing else. There is
a difference between seeing something in a theater and watching it at home.
I've always loved the theater experience. The big screen. The sound. The fact
that there is nothing else going on to distract you. The audience that can
amplify the response to the movie: funny, scary, emotional, or whatever. I love
the experience. It's made favorite movies out of films I wouldn't've considered
as fully if watched at home, and it's brought to light issue with films that I
would've overlooked on the small screen. Watching at home is fine. I've enjoyed
plenty of movies that way. With most movies, it really doesn't matter how I see
them. With an industry that mixes art and commerce so completely, that's an
unavoidable fact: one that's I don't even mind (I think the entertainment end
of the spectrum doesn't get its due often enough).
Roma,
Alfonso Cuaron's latest film, set in early 1970s Mexico City - a fictionalized
account and tribute to his childhood nanny - is being distributed by Netflix.
That means, except for a selects few cities, the only way to see the film is at
home, through their streaming service*. That bothers my for a number of
reasons. There's the hurt pride from my city not being deemed "good"
or "important" enough to get the movie. Mostly though, it's that I
know no matter how hard I try, I can't recreate the theater experience at home.
I tried. I turned my phone and all the lights off. I turned the volume up and
watched on my large TV. I tried to give the movie the proper screening that
weeks/months of buzz from critics told me I should give it to appreciate it.
*That's why I'm still writing this as a Movie
Reaction, not a Delayed Reaction, despite my Movie Reactions being otherwise
reserved only for films I saw in theaters.
...And, if I'm being honest, the movie landed pretty
poorly on me. There's a lot to like about the movie, and much of it I did
appreciate. But I didn't care for it much beyond on a technical level. Now, I
can't help but wonder how much it could've gained from the theatrical
experience that it was intended for.
Roma is a
simple enough movie. It's told from the perspective of Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio),
the primary live-in nanny for a upper-class family. It coves about a year in
her life as she and the family she works for are going through their own
domestic strifes. I don't need to get into the story more than that, because
it's not the driving force of the movie. This movie is a beautiful tribute to a
woman who clearly meant a lot to Cuaron. He gives Cleo a full life. She dates.
She has friends. She likes her work and has come to terms with whatever class
differences she can't overcome. Aparicio, an untrained actress in her first
role, shines in this. It's a natural performance that's perfectly calibrated
for the film. That same could be said about the rest of the mostly unknown cast
(it's hard to find a non-Roma credit among anyone in the cast), but
Aparicio is absolutely the star.
Well, Aparicio and Cuaron. Cuaron is the director,
writer, producer, cinematographer, and co-editor of the film. It's his film
more than nearly any film you'll ever find. He does some masterful work. With
his black and white cinematography, he gets some gorgeous shots. His opening
credits sequence is pretty mesmerizing. His camera movement is very deliberate.
It reminded my a lot of Lean on Pete
earlier this year, the way that the camera moves as little as possible while
never missing the action. It's a lot of very patient pan shots. This comes as
no surprise to anyone who remembers Children or Men or
Gravity
(his last two films). Every choice in the film seems very deliberate. I really
appreciate the craft that went into the film.
About now, you may be asking, "I thought you
said you didn't like the movie?" First of all, I said it landed poorly
with me, not that I didn't like it. Stop misquoting me. Second, yeah. I came
away from this very disappointed, or at least confused by the universal praise
it's received. I've heard "masterpiece" more than a couple times
about Roma. For me, the film felt - and I don't like using this word -
pretentious. It's the filmmaker equivalent of the stand-up comedian playing to
the other comics in the back of the room rather than to the audience. There's a
lot of directorial flexing going on, which is cool, but I never could get
emotionally invested in it. It's almost patronizing: a filmmaker who came from
privilege making a film about someone who worked for his family and painting
her as this working class saint. It didn't feel authentic to me, even though I
know it is authentic. It's a deeply personal film for Cuaron. Certainly no
studio head was asking for him to make a black and white film in Spanish about
daily life in Mexico City. I wasn't emotionally impressed at all by the movie.
Part of me wonders how differently I would feel had
I seen this in theaters. I've heard a lot of praise for the sound mixing of the
film. That's something I have trouble recreating at home. And good sound and
scoring does a lot to make an emotional connection with a movie. Scenes like
the wildfire or the riot by the furniture store would be more overwhelming on a
big screen. Watching this with an audience could've cued me onto things I
missed on my own. I really do think this is a movie that had a lot to gain by
watching in a theater. I guess I'll never know though.
Roma is
great for bravado filmmaking. I did like the performances and craft enough to
say I liked it overall. I fall short of calling it special though. If I watched
this with absolutely no warning or hype, I'd think the movie was fine and never
think of it again. As is, it's one of those films I'm beating my head against a
wall over trying to figure out what I'm missing. I think that emotional
connection is the key to unlocking the rest of the beauty of the film and I
couldn't find a way to make that connection.
Verdict (?): Weakly Recommend
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