Roma review: Alfonso Cuaron’s nostalgic tale of the woman he loved
AFI Fest Review: Roma
Roma is an emotionally heavy story of one woman’s attempt to live her life, beautifully composed and aesthetically brilliant.
If you haven’t noticed by the wave of ’80s inspired movies, television shows, and fashion permeating everything this year, we’re in the midst of a nostalgia boom. We all love to look back on the past and remember it in the idealized, candy-coated way only we remember (or claim to). It’s why we love movies in the first place, right?
Mexican director Alfonso Cuaron has created several nostalgic treats for audiences, from A Little Princess to his newest work, Roma. Roma is deeply personal, based on the life of the director himself and the relationship he had with his family’s maid. Though often too wrapped up in memory to confront the hard questions, Cuaron’s passion shines through in Roma to create a feature that’s splendidly arranged.
Set in 1971, we’re introduced to Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), a domestic for a family in Mexico City. Cleo lives a mundane but solid life until she discovers she’s pregnant. The man wants nothing to do with her and as Cleo navigates pregnancy alone she discovers an inner strength within herself and comes to realize family has many definitions.
Yalitza Aparicio as Cleo, Marco Graf as Pepe, and Daniela Demesa as Sofi in Roma, written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón.
Image by Alfonso Cuarón.
Watching Roma was an interesting lesson in contrasts considering AFI Fest also screened Lila Avilés’ The Chambermaid, another story about a maid, though Lila Avilés’ story looks at a contemporary woman working in a hotel. Avilés, a first-time female director, takes her character, Eva, and shows the struggles of women attempting to keep afloat in a world where their job and society keeps them invisible. Cuaron wears a heavy pair of rose-colored glasses in his story, telling Cleo’s story with struggle, but one that eventually forms into its own happily ever after.
Aparicio, an untested actress who arrived at the audition on a whim, is incredibly eye-catching as Cleo. We meet her going about a routine she’s done 100 times, cleaning up for the family around her. She’s a surrogate mother for the four children in the household, all of whom are growing up in the midst of their parents’ separation. Aparicio’s warm eyes convey love and empathy for everything, even when others are so obviously taking advantage of her. When she’s in bed with Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero) Aparicio’s face is hilarious in its restraint as she tries not to laugh at how seriously Fermin takes his martial arts training — in the nude, no less.
Roma, written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Photo Credit: Carlos Somonte
But for all the love Cleo gives out, who gives it back to her? As Señora Sofia (wonderfully played by Marina de Tavira) tells her, women are all alone. Cuaron’s memories have an air of fault to them, as he never appears to attack the culture that seems to take advantage of Cleo. She cares for this family and considers herself family, sitting down to watch television with them, yet she isn’t family. She sits on a cushion on the floor until someone asks her for something to drink or eat. She’s an outsider the family claims to love yet is still stuck sleeping in a shabby building outside the house.
Cuaron doesn’t seek to explore these issues, possibly because they’re far too complex for his narrative to handle or maybe because, in his mind, there’s nothing to critique and that leads to a weird dichotomy within Roma. His world, rendered in the most dazzling black and white this side of nitrate, is one where women are routinely abandoned by the men in their lives. As Cleo deals with being a single mother, Señora Sofia is also coping with her husband’s philandering and eventual abandoning of the film. It’s unfortunate that Cuaron doesn’t think to examine how these two women’s different social classes give them different standing as single women (Cleo as an unmarried soon-to-be mother and Sofia as a fairly comfortable divorcee).
(L to R) Marco Graf as Pepe, Daniela Demesa as Sofi, Yalitza Aparicio as Cleo, Marina De Tavira as Sofia, Diego Cortina Autrey as Toño, Carlos Peralta Jacobson as Paco in Roma, written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Photo by Carlos Somonte
What’s wonderful to see though is the two women working together. De Tavira can be as tough as she is pathetic. One minute she has her kids writing letters to their father, begging him to come home, and the next she’s selling his car to buy something that will actually fit in the garage. There are a few inside jokes at her expense that do come off as dated since this isn’t 1971, particularly Sofia’s seemingly complete inability to drive. The film’s second half though is sublimely rendered, with both women coming together to reveal their secrets to each other in a way that plays like a fairy tale.
The flaws in the story aside, Roma’s technical artistry cannot be denied. Cuaron, who also acts as cinematographer, composes everything for maximum beauty, whether it’s Cleo simply walking through an area where a man is being launched like a human cannonball or seeing the crushing powers of waves hitting her in the ocean. Cleo is presented as one with the year yet never swallowed up by it. The lack of score also works in the film’s favor, lending the film a verisimilitude by emphasizing the real sounds of a busy Mexico City landscape.
Roma is a technical feat worthy of praise. It is hard not believe Cuaron is giving us the best presentation of the past but that is the nature of filmmaking. If you have the privilege of seeing this on a big screen, do so.