Roma review
Roma opens with sound. The sound of water cascading to and fro, the chitter chatter of birds in the air, and even some people off in the distance. Tiled floor splashed by water is the first image that greets you on the screen, accompanied by the sound of someone scrubbing it off camera. And as the opening credits roll along another splash of water fills the frame, making this simple mundane task akin to the ebb and flow of waves in an ocean. Before any characters are introduced Cuarón sets up this world with a sensory overload, of sorts, that'll reflect throughout the film and become a thesis about life in his latest work.
Alfonso Cuarón's latest depicts the life of a maid, Cleo, and the family she works for. As their lives unfold you get to know the safety of the mundane compared to the chaos of the rest of the world. Unlike Cuarón's previous work in Gravity and Children of Men he takes great pains to show time unraveling at a slow, realistic, pace for these characters that have no urgency in their lives. Instead, he opts to have the excitement, movement, advancement of life in the background and the surroundings of these character's daily tasks.
Similar to the opening tiled shot, the rest of the film, particularly in the beginning, is shot in a way that makes you realize that these characters are different from a narrative standpoint. They don't have obvious goals they're working towards, there's no real antagonist other than life at times, and when they're interacting with the world it almost seems as if the camera is more interested in their surroundings than the characters themselves. Multiple scenes depicted inside the family's house will be shot the same way, giving the space a familiarity once things change by the end. Very rarely will the camera show a close up, or use cinematic shorthand to allow the audience inside these character's heads. Instead it feels more like an unblinking observer at times with Cuarón's established long takes which reinforce the experience. Rather than the characters driving the story the film prefers the story to live and evolve just as these character's lives had.
One of the more obvious motifs in Roma is water, the key element that brought life to our planet. Whether it's a glass of water, a sink dripping, Cleo washing the tiled floor, a birth, or even the mighty ocean, water is everywhere and used to reinforce the notion that like waves life ebbs and flows and continues on. There is a reoccurring scene where the mistress of the family continually tells Cleo to clean up the dog crap that has been piling up, and is literally everywhere. Usually this is preceded by a scene that is life altering for them, like the father of the family leaving, and serves as a visual metaphor that no matter how crappy life can be it'll all wash away eventually.
Water as the symbol of life is also portrayed in a key sequence later on in the film when the family stops at a beach. Most of the time the film is set inside the family's house walled off from the rest of the world with a literally caged door. This space acts like their little haven where they're safe from the loud, violent, lying world. In a way they control their own lives there because they have the power to either use or turn off water, whereas at the ocean they're dealing with monstrous waves that nearly drowns the children and forces a character who cannot swim to plow through the roaring waves which creates more metaphors for life in which the children were not ready for the world yet, and Cleo is not ready for an independent life apart from this family which is reinforced by her birthing scene, boyfriend, etc.
There are many aspects of Roma that allow you to dive into the mundane and come out with philosophies on life, like the two paragraphs I spent on water, which is why this film will do well on multiple viewings. For the first watch, however, it may not be as gobsmacked spectacular as people were expecting from their experience with Cuarón's other films. While it does take the visual ques from Children of Men and his and frequent collaborator Emmanuel Lubezki's other work, Cuarón has adapted all of his experience into what Roma is and achieved something that may be regarded as his Magnum Opus (so far) as the years ebb by.
Overall Roma boasts an unforgettable experience, and one that is not for everybody, as it slowly laments over life. The over stimulation of mise-en-scéne and sound will glue you to the screen as the astounding modern black and white aesthetic gives a new shine to a period piece. This is the type of film that should be observed multiple times, and deservedly so, as you and friends engage in thoughtful healthy discussions. It may be Alfonso Cuarón's greatest movie to date and will stay with you for days, possibly weeks, after.
7/10
