Caye is saving up for a boob job. She gets her money as Lima, whoring in the streets of Madrid. Every week she eats dinner with her family and worries abut her mother's increasingly slippery grip on reality. And she has theories on Princesses and their attachment to nostalgia. Caye has no past to be nostalgic for, so she is sad for her lost future. She meets illegal immigrant and fellow prostitute Zulema, and the friendship brings her some respite. But nothing good lasts forever...
Princesas is a poetic work, shot cinema verite style showing in uncompromising detail the degradation and danger that accompanies these women's lives. Candela Peña is engrossing as Caye, with no past to comfort her, and unable to see a better future, stuck in an eternal present. Her only hope is that there is not another life like this one. Zulema, the stunningly beautiful Micaela Nevárez, is compromised by a government bureaucrat lowlife who dangles just enough hope in front of her to facilitate his need to abuse. This relationship must be the only time in cinema history where a character looking for revenge packs a knife in her bag, and the audience never sees it again. Zulema, however, at least has a Pyrrhic victory of sorts (though the film falters slightly here, as it is unclear exactly who is infecting whom...)
A snapshot of lives lived in shadows and on the edges of our civilization, this is lyrically written, and shot in an unobtrusive, straightforward manner. Touching, truthful and ample food for thought.
Princesas is a poetic work, shot cinema verite style showing in uncompromising detail the degradation and danger that accompanies these women's lives. Candela Peña is engrossing as Caye, with no past to comfort her, and unable to see a better future, stuck in an eternal present. Her only hope is that there is not another life like this one. Zulema, the stunningly beautiful Micaela Nevárez, is compromised by a government bureaucrat lowlife who dangles just enough hope in front of her to facilitate his need to abuse. This relationship must be the only time in cinema history where a character looking for revenge packs a knife in her bag, and the audience never sees it again. Zulema, however, at least has a Pyrrhic victory of sorts (though the film falters slightly here, as it is unclear exactly who is infecting whom...)
A snapshot of lives lived in shadows and on the edges of our civilization, this is lyrically written, and shot in an unobtrusive, straightforward manner. Touching, truthful and ample food for thought.