Film Review: Roma
This masterfully heartbreaking observation of life — the grittily ordinary artfully arranged along side the lingeringly profound, is a triumph for director Alfonso Cuarón. Roma (2018) is honest, Roma is tender. Roma is a cinematic love poem, a loving ode to a woman, a place, a time. Highly personal and nostalgic, Cuarón tells universal, human tales against the stunning black and white backdrop of Mexico in the 1970s; expertly relating the broad, sweeping societal tides through a single human face.
A fan of both the gorgeous Gravity (2013) and the wonderfully unsettling Children of Men (2006)*, I knew Cuarón could tell a story, showcasing our commonality on a canvas of the fantastical and otherworldly (think of Harry in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004), but Roma… Roma because of its autobiographical foundation is all the more poignant and honest.
Each scene, from the seemingly mundane, sudsy floor washing sequence, mesmerizes and demands our attention. In a season of stand-out films, Roma is a rare cinematic experience, even if you enjoy it from the comforts of you own home on Netflix. A study in contrasts as defined as the black and white images that create this tender observance of the small tasks and deeds that define our lives, Roma celebrates the sublime in the everyday, and the intimate in the immense. No doubt Roma will be remembered as one of the year’s best films. Evoking emotions which resonate on many levels, Roma gets under your skin and more importantly into your heart.
Roma: an emotional triumph, artfully composed
*Film students around the world have studied this long take, very difficult to film but the steep trajectory of the action - sleep to playful to chaos, without a cut, is pure genius. Here it is:
