This UK release from the always reliable New Wave distribution company has been gathering a great deal of support from UK critics and programmers. It is certainly an impressive film but I do wonder what audiences are making of it. There are currently only three responses on IMDb, two of which are negative, but the ‘User Ratings’ suggest a very positive response. I’m struggling to find words to describe my own overall response and I’ll try to be as objective as possible.
As the title suggests, the film focuses on Evella (‘Eve’), a chambermaid in a 5 star hotel in Mexico City. Eve is a 24 year-old Indigenous woman who has clearly made good progress in her time at the hotel. She is now responsible for the 21st floor and has her sights set on the 42nd floor, the penthouse suite. Later we will learn that she has a small boy being looked after by a child-minder and that a further promotion will help her pay for this child care and to find more suitable accommodation in the city. The narrative doesn’t actually move out of the hotel until the final scene and all we know about Eve’s life outside work is gleaned from the phone calls she manages to make to the child-minder.
The writer-director Lila Avilés (b. 1982) has a background in theatre, TV and film, writing, directing, producing and acting. She has formed her own film production company which carries this statement on its website:
Limerencia Films is a Mexican independent film producer founded by Lila Avilés and the film La Camarista. Limerencia Films intends to continue producing author films with deep themes, searching new cinematographic narratives with international projection. Avilés is currently in the development stage of her next film, which is an autobiographical story.
A sister company is concerned with stage productions. It’s important to note that the two other features that Alivés has made are documentaries. La camarista is presented, in CinemaScope (2.35 : 1), almost like a documentary study of Eve’s working life in the hotel and the Press Notes reveal that the film started from a documentary approach. The whole film has a subdued colour palette of whites, blues and greys enlivened only occasionally by more dramatic colours. The hotel itself is ‘tastefully’ decorated. Significantly, perhaps, Eve is hoping to claim a bright red dress left behind by a guest. She is ‘top of the list’ if the owner doesn’t claim the dress after a few weeks have passed. I didn’t notice much music in the film, though as one reviewer has pointed out there is a sophisticated sound design by Guido Berenblum incorporating all the sounds of the building which is sealed off from the roar of the city outside. The film lasts for just over 100 minutes and the plot is minimal. We spend a significant amount of the running time accompanying Eve on her cleaning, bed-making and re-stocking of what the subtitles refer to as ‘amenities’ (soap, towels etc.). The film’s ‘action sequences’ comprise Eve’s interactions with other hotel staff and a handful of guests. Sometimes these meetings are quite dramatic, perhaps seeming more so because of the observational sequences which proceed them. When I reflected on the film’s aesthetic, the term that kept coming to me was ‘austere’, but perhaps it should have been ‘controlled’. There is enormous care in the presentation of what is a wonderful performance by Gabriela Cartol as Eve via the cinematography of Carlos Rossini, the editing of Omar Guzmán and the art direction by Vika Fleitas.
What are we invited to take from this meticulous observational study? Perhaps inevitably, critics have referenced Roma (2018) because of the parallel of Indigenous women working as maids/housekeepers in Mexico City. I’m not sure that is very helpful. In Roma, as in many other Latin American film narratives, the maid is part of a household with distinct relationships with a family and events are often played out as part of a family melodrama. Any Latin American film focusing on a maid is going to have a clear discourse about both social class and ethnicity in unequal societies – and not just in Latin America. La camarista is almost like an ‘anti-melodrama’ in its observational style, yet it does have its melodrama moments. Eve, once out of her uniform and with her hair down is an attractive young woman as well as a working mum. But just as importantly, the script develops a critique of the economic plight of the hotel workers in this hotel and symbol of global capitalism. There is a narrative tension in the film. Will Eve get her red dress and her promotion? Will she be able to improve her chances by gaining a high school diploma while studying in an improvised cramming class for hotel workers?
The hotel is a community, a form of family perhaps, for all the hotel workers. But it is also a factory in which workers are in danger of exploitation. Eve is understandably wary of getting closer to fellow workers and her immediate superiors. Managements invariably divide and rule. Eve will meet other workers who try to sell her things, pressurising her to buy. They may discriminate against her because of her background – yet she needs them and they may know more about the job and ways around problems.
I certainly recommend The Chambermaid, but audiences need patience and sharp observation to get everything from the narrative. Eve is definitely worth getting to know and I will look out for future films by Lila Avilés. I hope she doesn’t lose her documentarist’s eye, but I would like to see a little more narrative development in future projects. The film continues for a third week at HOME in Manchester, demonstrating how a 5 screen cinema can nurture an audience for films like this. The film is also available on Curzon’s streaming service in the UK and it is still touring venues in the US.
This film has a similar title to the classic Claude Chabrol film from 1960 (Les bonnes femmes, France-Italy) which has by chance drawn a few visitors to this blog recently. Both films have question marks about how to translate their titles into English. It’s the ‘good’ part that’s the problem. What exactly does it mean? Chabrol’s film about four working-class shopgirls received criticism at the time but has since become recognised as one of his best films. Las niñas bien is about a group of upper middle-class women in Mexico City in 1982. The film was written and directed by Alejandra Márquez Abella and most of the ‘creatives’ on the crew were also women. This was noted on the film’s first big festival appearance at Toronto in 2018 where reviewers praised the film and Márquez Abella was selected by Variety as one of its ’10 Directors to Watch’ in 2019. The film has since gone on to win prizes at festivals and was released in March in Mexico. However, I wonder how it might now be viewed by those audiences who so enjoyed Alfonso Cuaron’s Roma (2018) which deals with same world at an earlier time of crisis in 1972?
Las niñas bien is adapted from a book of essays written in the early 1980s by Maria Guadalupe Loaeza, one of a group of ‘Good Girls’, who exposed how these women spent their time and their money and how they treated each other and the others (servants, receptionists, shop staff etc. as well as the nouveau riche) who they met. In the interview below, Alejandra Márquez Abella explains how she decided to use this source material which she thinks is still relevant thirty years later as the same social class divisions remain and Mexico has suffered recurring cycles of economic ‘boom and bust’. She recognises that the original was a satire but argues that she hasn’t created a satirical film but rather a form of detailed character study looking at how these women behave and how surface appearances relate to what might be happening ‘underneath’. She feels that satire doesn’t really work in exploring this kind of world any more – there have been so many such satirical films about social class in Latin America.
I have to say that as I watched the film I was very uncomfortable. Part of me was admiring the direction, the acting, the cinematography and the production design – this is a very well-made film. But the other half was raging against these wealthy dilettantes who contribute nothing to society and look down their carefully made-up noses at the rest of Mexico and indeed the country itself. After the screening I spent a long time thinking about the film and I haven’t quite resolved the conflict in my feelings about it.
The plot of the film follows roughly a year, I think, in the life of the central character SofÍa played by Ilse Salas. This is a stunning performance and I didn’t recognise the same actor who was also very good in Güeros (Mexico 2014) in a very different role. SofÍa is a woman from, presumably, a ‘good family’ who has been advised to marry Fernando because he too is from the right kind of family. When the narrative begins SofÍ is hosting a lavish party for her birthday. Everything is ‘just right’ except that she hasn’t achieved her fantasy result in which Julio Iglesias appears as a guest (this and the references to the Spanish department store El Corte Inglés is a sign of deference to the ex-colonial power in Mexico). The next day however Fernando learns that his uncle is pulling out of the business he had started as a ‘migrant’ (from Spain?) with Fernando’s father. There is a crisis coming with the falling value of the peso and anyone who doesn’t hold dollars is in trouble. From this point Fernando is in deep trouble – and so is SofÍ. Having packed her children off to summer camp with instructions not to mix with ‘Mexicans’ (!), SofÍ seems only marginally affected by the financial crisis when her credit cards are refused and her cheques bounce.
An important parallel plotline is the appearance of Ana Paula (Paulina Gaitan) as a young woman from the country with ‘uncouth’ manners who marries a successful financier (?) and aspires to join the ‘Good Girls’. She takes SofÍ as a role model and aspires to be like her, wanting to know how to speak, what clothes to wear, how to behave. SofÍ behaves very badly towards her but gradually the tables are turned as Ana Paula becomes the dominant figure in the social life of the group.
A great deal of time is spent on clothes, make-up and interior decoration. Some commentators argue that this is unusual and shows the care and attention of a female crew. DoP Dariela Ludlow must take some of the credit for her presentation of the women alongside costume designer Annai Ramos. The film is set in the early 1980s which, from my perspective was one of the worst periods for fashion and I was reminded of Margaret Thatcher – not a pleasant memory. At the end of the film, SofÍ tears out her shoulder pads and I thought this might mark a change for the good, but the actual resolution of the narrative suggests ‘business as usual’. Earlier I mentioned a comparison with Roma. There is one shared moment between the two films when a drunken husband crashes his car into a post, but otherwise the two films are very different. Roma offers us several perspectives on Mexican society and in particular promotes the maid and the children to central roles and effectively narrators of the film. The ‘Good Girls’ marginalise both their servants and their children.
It doesn’t look at the moment as if this film will make it into UK distribution. I wish it would because I think it could generate discussion about what a film by women and arguably ‘for women’ might be in the current climate. I’m not sure whether I’m in tune with what Alejandra Márquez Abella attempts to do here, but I’m definitely interested in what she might do next. The film has been taken by Netflix so you may be able to find it there. The interview below is well worth exploring.
John Sayles has been away from UK cinema screens for a long time. I think Honeydripper was the last of his films to get a UK release back in 2008 . These days the ‘godfather of American Independent cinema’ is mostly based in Mexico it seems, or at least concerned with Spanish-language films. Casa de los babys is an earlier film made in Mexico, partly in English as well as Spanish. The film was never released in the UK but I bought a Region 1 DVD some time ago and finally managed to watch it. I wasn’t disappointed.
The ‘House of Babies’ of the title is a seaside hotel ‘somewhere in Latin America’. The country isn’t named but the location for the shoot is given as Acapulco. There are six ‘anglos/gringas’ who have come to this city in the hope of adopting a baby to take back to the US. Sayles has acquired a starry cast, no doubt attracted by his reputation for female-centred melodramas with a political edge. The Americans are Maggie Gyllenhaal, Mary Steenburgen, Marcia Gay Harden, Darryl Hannah, Lili Taylor and the Irish actor, Susan Lynch. The hotel they are staying in is run by the indomitable Rita Moreno.
The large ensemble cast is no surprise in a John Sayles film. He often writes screenplays which bring together several personal stories and this film is no exception. The criticism of Sayles’ films tends to have been that, because he usually edits his own films, he allows the blend of narratives to develop into a meandering multi-strand narrative. That’s certainly not the case here. He’s still the editor but the film is a concise 95 minutes and if anything is cut short rather than allowed to dawdle.
The focus is not just on the Americans but also on the local characters, a maid in the hotel, the hotel manager’s family, three young boys sleeping on the street, a 15 year-old pregnant girl, a student and an older man desperate to emigrate to Philadelphia (the ‘home of Liberty’ as he explains to the women). Each of these characters shares the spotlight at some point, allowing Sayles to explore the complex relationships between ‘North and South’, ‘Latin America’ and ‘Anglo America’. The six women do not necessarily get along. Nan (Marcia Gay Harden) is the most aggressive towards the locals, while most of the others are, perhaps naïvely friendly (naïve because the don’t speak Spanish), and grateful for the opportunity. Leslie (Lili Taylor) is the most sussed, a Jewish New Yorker and a single woman who speaks Spanish. Skipper (Darryl Hannah) is mistrusted by some of the others and seen as fitness-obsessed. But like most of the women she has a back story to be revealed.
I found the film entertaining and rewarding and, typically for Sayles, the narrative plays fair to all the characters, American or Mexican. Audiences might however feel short-changed as this is not a Hollywood film with a neat ending in which we find out which of the women gets a baby. But that’s OK, I think. The purpose of the narrative is to introduce us to the complexities of what adoption means and especially what it means in the power exchanges between North and South. But it also explores what it means for both the childless Anglos and the Latinas who lose/give up their babies.
Reading some of the negative comments (which are more than balanced by the positive ones) on IMDb it’s amazing just how prejudiced some people can be. This isn’t in any way a didactic film. Sayles simply offers a number of scenes featuring the different characters and allows us to work out for ourselves what the meanings might be when they are edited together. That might sound like it’s a foregone conclusion but really it isn’t. There is a lot more material on the DVD dealing with the production itself and it’s clear that different people involved in the film have their own ideas about the ‘trade’ taking place.
It’s time, I think that some of the UK distributors decided to bring us the more recent John Sayles films on DVD/Blu-ray or download if not in cinemas. We can’t afford to forget what a terrific filmmaker he is – and how different he is to most American filmmakers. Search through the cast list here and you’ll find various actors and crew who have worked with Sayles during the last thirty years and more.
Time Share won a Special Jury Prize (for scriptwriting, World Drama) at last year’s Sundance festival and appears to have been seen little in cinemas outside Mexico (where it won a couple of Ariels). Whether we should be grateful to Netflix for picking up the film for distribution, or berate them for preventing it being shown in cinemas, I don’t know. I do know that director Sebastián Hofmann, who edited the film and co-scripted with Julio Chavezmontes, clearly has a cinematic eye that would greatly benefit from the big screen. Matias Penachino’s cinematography brings out the candy colours of the holiday resort setting that makes it look like a Ballardian hell.
Pedro (Luis Gerardo Méndez) and Eva (Cassandra Ciangherotti) arrive late at their time share villa to find it’s been double-booked with another family. Hofmann and Chavezmontes’ script beautifully captured the apologies of corporate speak that mean nothing and the families are forced to co-habit. A parallel plot focuses on Andres (Miguel Rodarte) and his wife Gloria (Montserrat Marañon) who are taking opposite trajectories as workers for Everfields, the American owners of the resort. The corporate environment is causing Andres to lose his grip on reality whilst Gloria relishes the promotion that gives her the opportunity to sell time shares to the holiday makers.
I don’t know the location of the film’s setting, a building designed to look like a Mayan temple, but I’m guessing it is an actual resort and wonder how the filmmakers managed to finesse making such an excoriating satire at the expense of the industry. ‘Excoriating’ only to an extent: the final half hour doesn’t quite have the punch of what precedes it. I’d have preferred that they had gone full blown ‘madness’ rather than keep the narrative world in touch with reality. Grotesquerie is reserved for the credit sequence at the end.
As noted above, Hofmann creates some stunning shots (the golf buggies’ dreamy movement, for example) and uses shallow depth of field, occasionally, to give a surreal look to the setting. A pink flamingo makes its appearance a couple of times suggesting that the pharmaceuticals given are designed to do more than pacify and relieve pain.
This was Hofmann’s second feature as a director and I hope I get to see his next one in a cinema.