Sunday, June 09, 2024

Roma




It is nothing short of a miracle that films like Alfonso Cuarón’s
hashtagRoma are being made, released and revered in contemporary times; these are movies that instinctively remind us of towering legends like Ray, Ghatak, Kurosawa, Bergman, Vittorio De Sica, and Renoir.

Alfonso creates an enduring human document which is autobiographical in essence but universal in significance. Alfonso's camerawork is a black and white sketchbook (the art is hearteningly devoid of the artifice found in the work of many showy makers who love to flaunt their superficial work as 'open to interpretation' )

Most frames convey a truckload of the 'unsaid' for the discerning viewer who finds:

the pathos of the protagonist, the housemaid Cleo matching that of Borras, the family dog, whose poop reminds the household of his loved-yet-forsaken existence before it is cleaned up by the dutiful Cleo

Cleo's aspirations as stillborn as her baby which fails to make the decisive transition from fetal circulation to Vagitus, 'the first cry'

the eluisve bond between individuals seperated by class differences and united by a similar fate thriving on parallel tracks - humane without being democractic