Alfonso Cuarón has clearly had 'Roma' rattling around his creative head ever since his film-obsessed childhood in Mexico City, which forms the basis behind this masterpiece of filmmaking. The film is entirely black & white, with a stripped-back narrative that excels in extracting beauty from mundanity.
Cuarón has always ensured his films such as the masterful 'Children of Men' and 'Gravity' are shot impeccably, usually with the help of expert Emmanuel Lubezki. For 'Roma', however, he takes over DP duty himself. In doing so, he showcases his considerable skill by focusing on gorgeous slow pans and improbably long takes. This really is one of the most aesthetically pleasing films I've seen: any given shot could be framed.
The minimalist plot - essentially a series of delicately-constructed vignettes chronicling the relationship between a Mixtec maid and the family she works for - allows for deeper exploration of character. Schoolteacher Yalitza Aparicio had never acted before this, but you wouldn't know it from the astonishing degrees of pain and love which she exhibits. The family she lives with is one of the most natural ever put to film, featuring a group of children free of the cloying sentimentality displayed by trained Hollywood child actors. Marina de Tavira is equally impressive as a matriarch struggling with her marriage. Every small event which the characters experience feels monumental in the context of the story, due to the effort which has gone into developing the characters in a realistic, fulfilling manner.
The film's dialogue is also consistently grounded in humanity, and the script even gets the chance to explore some absurdist comedy during a martial arts scene. The lasting sensation of the film, however, is one of melancholic beauty. I was left overwhelmed by the intensely personal nature of it: it is at times akin to reading the diary of someone detailing intimate family secrets. The film also manages to evoke tears, and is one of those rare pieces which can do so without sweeping, moving music or heartfelt dialogue.
This is by no means a film to be watched lightly, and is not conducive to casual watching: many people will be understandably put off by what is essentially watching exquisitely beautiful paint dry. For me however, 'Roma' is a true artwork of a film, peerless in its elegant, graceful tranquility. 95/100
Cuarón has always ensured his films such as the masterful 'Children of Men' and 'Gravity' are shot impeccably, usually with the help of expert Emmanuel Lubezki. For 'Roma', however, he takes over DP duty himself. In doing so, he showcases his considerable skill by focusing on gorgeous slow pans and improbably long takes. This really is one of the most aesthetically pleasing films I've seen: any given shot could be framed.
The minimalist plot - essentially a series of delicately-constructed vignettes chronicling the relationship between a Mixtec maid and the family she works for - allows for deeper exploration of character. Schoolteacher Yalitza Aparicio had never acted before this, but you wouldn't know it from the astonishing degrees of pain and love which she exhibits. The family she lives with is one of the most natural ever put to film, featuring a group of children free of the cloying sentimentality displayed by trained Hollywood child actors. Marina de Tavira is equally impressive as a matriarch struggling with her marriage. Every small event which the characters experience feels monumental in the context of the story, due to the effort which has gone into developing the characters in a realistic, fulfilling manner.
The film's dialogue is also consistently grounded in humanity, and the script even gets the chance to explore some absurdist comedy during a martial arts scene. The lasting sensation of the film, however, is one of melancholic beauty. I was left overwhelmed by the intensely personal nature of it: it is at times akin to reading the diary of someone detailing intimate family secrets. The film also manages to evoke tears, and is one of those rare pieces which can do so without sweeping, moving music or heartfelt dialogue.
This is by no means a film to be watched lightly, and is not conducive to casual watching: many people will be understandably put off by what is essentially watching exquisitely beautiful paint dry. For me however, 'Roma' is a true artwork of a film, peerless in its elegant, graceful tranquility. 95/100