As part of the ¡Viva! Weekender, Cornerhouse also offered a ‘One Hour Intro’, ostensibly to complement the screening of María y el Araña but in fact also useful in thinking about the other two Latin American films screening at the weekend as well.
Dr James Scorer, Lecturer in Latin American Cultural Studies at the University of Manchester delivered a talk for exactly an hour, showing a multitude of clips and setting out some intriguing arguments in what was an entertaining and informative session.
James began with a statement that certainly made me think. Latin America is now the most urbanised region on the planet with 80% of the population living in cities and surrounding urban areas. Given that for many years the image of Latin America on screen often included the rain forests of Brazil, the Andes, the pampas of Argentina or the varied topography of Mexico, it is certainly worth considering just how many recent films have focused on urban life. James grouped films in terms of how they addressed the problems of rapid urbanisation and how these have produced shanty towns/favelas alongside modernist architecture and gated communities. Inequalities have helped to create criminal gangs and kidnappings. The transport problems and the lack of planning has produced an alienated workforce, broken up traditional communities and traditional communities etc.
Although I had seen several of the films used as examples, there were many others that I’ll certainly try to see. What struck me eventually though was that all of the examples pointed to universal problems with urbanisation. The same issues about crime, health etc. issues in shanty towns can be found in numerous Indian films (or in films set in Kenya or South Africa) and it also struck me that some of the stories were similar to those found in Italian films of the 1950s/60s as well as other European films. There are some specific differences in Latin America of course but the issues of migration, alienation, homelessness, public health etc. are pretty much the same everywhere.
This introduction has provoked me to think in some different ways about Latin American cinema and in the process it’s reminded me of what a rich film culture there is to discover. Roll on ¡Viva!’s Mexican weekender! (By which time it’ll be at HOME!)
Writer-director Roberto Flores Prieto gave a great performance (in English) in the Q&A following the screening of his film. He told us a great deal about the background to the film and what motivated him to make it. He was at ¡Viva! last year as well and he obviously feels at home in Manchester (I’m tempted to make a joke about rain, but more of that later).
Roberto told us that he liked the title simply as a phrase. If it has a link to the film’s narrative it is because it refers to a certain type of audio signal picked up on the radios and TVs repaired by Luis, a man in late middle age who lives on his own. Early in the film we meet him in a bar where he appears to succumb to the siren call of a bar girl and the couple then retire to a run-down hotel. A little later we meet Carmen (Mabel Pizarro), a woman in her early fifties who cleans the rooms in the hotel and occasionally sits at the reception desk. She lives on her own in the hotel and begins a tentative pursuit of Luis (who she has presumably known for some time since he lives locally and advertises his repair business).
Without the background about the city of Barranquilla before the Q&A I didn’t really get all the nuances of the film’s narrative. The set-up is very simple. There are just a handful of main locations, Luis’s room, the hotel, the bar and the streets between the three. Carmen visits a Chinese takeaway and a hairdresser and Luis delivers/picks up some items for repair. Not a great deal happens ‘plot-wise’ and the film is 110 minutes long. However, in its exploration of film language in terms of cinematography, costume, set design and use of sound and music, the film is rich in meanings. (The look of the film is inspired by the American painter Edward Hopper.) Prieto wants to spend time with his two central characters. He wants us to understand what they feel and to think about their responses. These two people are attracted to each other for a variety of reasons but they are sensitive and wary about allowing someone else into their lives. They might be easily hurt. I won’t spoil the story so I’ll simply point out that this isn’t a Hollywood narrative.
Back to the rain: Barranquilla is on the Caribbean coast of Colombia and it rains a lot in season. Prieto told us that the city (the third largest in the country), is ‘looked down on’ from Bogota but the director lives there and he was determined to use it as a not just a location but almost as a character. The rain is so heavy that in the old parts of the city, the roads become fast-running streams. These are dangerous, so in the symbolism of the melodrama, rain doesn’t only signify ‘sexual release’, but also the danger of sexual congress/relationship. I realised a little after the screening that in several different ways, Ruido Rosa resembles Wong Kar-Wai’s classic In the Mood For Love. Certainly the dark streets, the rain and the music/costumes are important in both films. So too is the question of exile/migration. In this case it is Carmen who has long dreamed of travelling to New York. Will she decide to stay with Luis or to finally join the other 5 million Colombians living abroad? How will Luis deal with Carmen’s desire to leave? These are the important questions that give an edge to the relationship between the two.
Ruido Rosa is a classic ‘meller’, but it is also very funny at times – in certain carefully presented deadpan scenes e.g. when Carmen and a colleague at the hotel solemnly chomp on Chinese take-away meals and in a neighbourhood cinema when we watch Luis and Carmen but listen to hilarious versions of dialogue from typical Hollywood genre films (all provided by the director). Carmen goes to the cinema to practise English, repeating the lines she hears. Music is integral to the film and I enjoyed it very much. At one pint we join Luis and Carmen in a local bar with live music from a trio (?). Like much of the film, this sequence reminded me of old Havana and of Cuban cinema. Afterwards I noted that Roberto Flores Prieto had studied at the International Film School in Cuba. This little bar scene also reminded me of the wonderful sequence in the Claire Denis film 35 rhums which includes the characters dancing to a version of ‘Siboney’.
In the end the sense of a love story told almost in defiance of Hollywood convention is what defines Ruido Rosa. The shooting was completed in just three and a half weeks. The two principals are not ‘stars’ but they have experience, Roosevel Gonzalez as a dancer and Mabel Pizarro as a drama teacher. Director, writers and crew seem to be on the same wavelength – making something that requires patience to watch but which is ultimately rewarding. Prieto told us that in Colombia cinephiles no longer go to the multiplexes but prefer to watch films at home on DVD and download. But the success of Ruido Rosa at festivals does seem to have helped it get more screenings at home (see the film’s Facebook page) and that must be good. I look forward to seeing a Roberto Flores Prieto film in Manchester again.
This intriguing film would make an interesting double bill with María y el Araña. I actually saw it before the Argentinian film and at first I thought it was ‘modest’, ‘slight’ even. On reflection it is more interesting than that suggests and it may be that thinking about María in the barrio in Buenos Aires has prompted me to rethink life for a middle-class teen in Quito.
The ‘holiday’ of the title is taken by Juan Pablo, a quiet and seemingly withdrawn 16 year-old from the European middle class, who is deposited by his mother with his uncle’s family in their hacienda in the Andes. The timing is important. This is just before a financial crisis in Ecuador in 1999 and ‘Juampi’ (a family nickname) discovers that his uncle is in serious trouble as President of a bank that has shut its doors and refused to pay out to deposit-holders. Juampi is mocked by his boorish male cousins but finds some sympathy with his female cousin and her girlfriend. Circumstances lead him to help the escape of a Quechuan (Amerindian) youth being threatened by Juampi’s uncle’s men. Through his developing friendship with this young man (also called Juan Pablo) we discover that Juampi is gay, although he only reveals this directly to his sketchbook. The narrative sees Juampi learn more about the lives of people he hasn’t met before and to visit a ‘black metal’ music event before it is broken up by security forces. In his mother’s apartment block, Juampi takes his friend up onto the roof to see the cityscape from a new perspective.
Shot in 2.35:1 Feriado is mainly an intimate drama although one scene by a beautiful waterfall and the scenes of the city at night do make good use of the widescreen. Juan Arregui plays Juampi as very quiet in the opening scenes, but perhaps he just seems so because his cousins are so brash. As he comes out of his shell he gradually becomes more assertive. In taking on sexuality, race and class as dimensions of a traditional ‘coming of age’ youth picture, director Diego Araujo might seem to be overloading his feature, but the ‘modest’ style of the film works and it does enough in 82 minutes to be successful – and the first Ecuadorean film to be officially selected for Berlin in 2014. It’s also impressive as a first feature for the director (see the official website).
I couldn’t find any festival coverage of this film (which was screened at several important festivals) – which surprised me as this was perhaps the most affecting of the films over the ¡Viva! weekend. It’s a youth picture and coming of age story crossed with a family melodrama and presented almost as social realism but with fabulous music and an element of ‘performance’ built into the narrative.
The second screening of the film was preceded by a very useful presentation on ‘The Latin American City in Cinema’ by James Scorer of Manchester University. He explained that the barrio (shanty town) where the central character lives is close to Puerto Madero, one of the newly renovated and now upmarket districts of Buenos Aires. An intelligent young woman, María is soon to finish elementary school and will be offered a scholarship to a high school – a potential way out of the barrio. She lives with her grandmother in a small shack which is shared with Garrido, the grandmother’s younger ‘companion’. María gives out junk mail on the subway system, often meeting an older friend who sells biscuits. One day she meets ‘Araña’, an older teenage boy who wears a Spider-Man hoodie and performs juggling and other tricks on the subway trains.
María is played by a non-professional, Florencia Salas, who has a smile to break hearts. Araña (Diego Vejezzi) is a similarly attractive and engaging young character. All seems set for a sweet teen romance, but as the Buenos Aires Herald puts it: ” . . . as the film unfolds, another story comes to the foreground, a story of subjugation and hidden pain”. The narrative develops in ways that are perhaps predictable but the presentation of the story is successful in representing a range of emotions – including a surprising and in some ways quite optimistic ending which is nevertheless underpinned by the knowledge that the lives of the young people in the barrio are still constrained by the failures of adults, both in the barrios and in the wider civil society of the city, to protect and nurture young people.
I was impressed by the subtle ways in which some aspects of the narrative are developed. Maria’s teacher knows something is wrong and expresses it with the slightest of looks askance. There are also some very strong visuals as befits a melodrama. The skill is in bringing these different elements together smoothly. I enjoyed the music in the film very much. It is mostly diegetic performed by bands in the shanty town and buskers on the subway. The music and the cinematography heighten the emotional pull of the film by contrasting the vibrancy of the performances with the restrictions of life in the barrio.
Director María Victoria Menis has made other films that have got some recognition outside Argentina, mainly in France (this is a French co-production) and I think that María y el Araña deserves to be seen more widely as well. The long trailer here which includes some extended scenes gives a good idea of how the film works. Most of what I discovered about the film came from the film’s Facebook page and the Argentinian production company’s ‘official website’.
Long trailer (minimal dialogue, no subtitles):