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La Cienaga
La Cienaga * * * MPAA rating
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Review by Shelley Cameron
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Cast
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Mercedes Moran: Tali
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Graciela Borges: Mecha
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Juan Cruz Bordeu: Jose
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Sebastian Montagna: Luciano
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Directed by Lucrecia Martel
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Quagmire in the Argentine
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La Cienaga translates as The Swamp. A perfect title that refers here both to the marshy land bordering the mountains in Argentina, and to the murky, uninviting swimming pool on the crumbling estate of once-moneyed Mecha and her family. Mecha, her husband Gregorio (Martin Adjemian), her cousin Tali, Tali's four children, her responsible husband and assorted family and friends lounge about the pool and drink too much, making la cienaga an apt name for the condition of the lives of these people as well.
The film opens on an afternoon of the group's excessive and lethargic drinking. There are close-ups of wine poured over ice, body parts in swimsuits and sounds of insects buzzing in the heat. Mecha gets up from her pool side chair and begins to collect some empty wineglasses, weaving unsteadily as she does so. She stumbles and falls on the shattering glasses, cutting her chest. As her husband and the other adults remain unshaken on their lounge chairs, the teenaged Veronica and Momi rush about trying to find towels to stop the bleeding and remove the broken glass. Meanwhile the drunken Mecha wails about the Indian servant Isabel (Andrea Lopez), who she says has probably stolen the towels. The realism is so clear it feels like we have just walked into a real family in the throes of a chaotic episode.
This sense of realism is maintained throughout the film and is its greatest strength. There are things that are hinted at, alluded to, of events or relationships in the narrative of this family. But just as we would in real life, we surmise or speculate on what that history may be. Instead of setting up a dramatic story line, we are observers as though bystanders at the party.
The scene cuts back and forth between the country estate of Mecha and the city home of Tali. Although they are the central characters and are the best developed, there are many points of view in this fragmented tale. One is the youngest child, Tali's son Luciano, a boy perhaps 5 years old. He is curious and innocent. He also is dreamy and capricious and is often in circumstances fraught with danger. Sometimes someone older notices and sometimes not. Another is daughter Momi, who has a teenage obsession for Isabel that hints of sexual longing. Mecha's oldest son Jose lives in another city and comes when he is notified of his mother's accident. Jose is living with Mercedes, who has business connections with the family. There are also insinuations of some personal past difficulties with Mecha.
In one moment of cheerfulness, several family members, including the teen girls and Jose sing and dance around in Mecha's bedroom while she is convalescing and Jose is shaving to go to a carnival. While in many ways they are oblivious to each other, they all watch in rapt attention to news reports on TV of a local sighting of the Virgin Mary on a water tower. It is as though most of them cannot take any real control of their own lives and so have developed instead a belief in incredible things. Like a belief in magic instead of logic and consequences. Two exceptions to this are Tali's husband Rafael, who discourages Tali from taking the children to visit Mecha's home, and Isabel, who finally has had enough and gives notice that she is quitting her position as the cook and maid. Mecha stares in disbelief and wonders who will fetch the ice.
Tali and Rafael's home is more stable and structured than Mecha's but still there is a sense that all are simply swept along on whatever wind is blowing at the moment. Adding palpably to this is the soundtrack, on which we hear a lot of thunder throughout the film, giving the sense that a storm is about to break at any time. A tragic event at the end, while not unlikely for this extended family, seems unnecessary and the credible realism falters. The final scene in the lounge chairs by the pool suggests that nothing has or will change.
First time director Lucrecia Martel gives us a jumbled but realistic portrait of people swirling in around and through a quagmire of racial, sexual, and familial snarls known as life. There has been too little attention given to Latino film. La Cienaga deserves a look.
Reviewed by Shelley Cameron © 2001
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