Review of Roma (2018) by Isaacj — 19 Jan 2019

Alfonso Cuaron has made a name for himself as a stellar director but his passion project, 2018’s Roma, is an impressive feat even for this Oscar-winning heavyweight, who not only directs here, but writes, shoots and edits as well. Roma is an ode to Cuaron’s childhood in Mexico City, told through the eyes of a young housekeeper, Cleo (newcomer Yalitza Aparicio), whose life we see unfold against the backdrop of political turbulence.

Roma is a definite exercise in artistry; this film is absolutely gorgeous, shot in vintage black and white (a pretentious yet oddly fitting decision), full of wide and detailed shots that immerse us within the world. As well as beauty, there’s a phenomenal sense of authenticity to the film, whether it be in languid scenes that play out in real time or in the film’s intricate sound design, which favours the ambience of street noises over a stringed orchestra. The technical mastery of Roma, however, acts as both its greatest achievement and its pitfall. The film’s design somewhat overshadows its plot, hiding a flawed picture beneath its glossy exterior. Much of this movie, in particular the middle, is rather mundane, struggling to reach the high emotional stakes one expects. The narrative rambles and there are numerous points where the film feels restrained by its luscious presentation. The factor that prevents Roma from becoming simply a parade of pretentiousness is the clearly deep personal reasons behind which it has been made; though the film is not always consistent, Alfonso Cuaron is an attentive director and his intelligent and gentle screenplay is one of the film’s greatest strengths. In all truth, when Roma hits gold, it’s a subtle, yet deeply moving film; scenes in the third act particularly are very well done, serving that desired emotional resonance that the rest of the film desperately fails to deliver. Yalitza Aparicio gives a wonderfully natural performance as Cleo, but the real stand out performer of the film is Marina de Tavira as Sofia, the mother of the family. De Tavira produces the only performance that truly gripped me, never allowing herself to be overshadowed by the virtuous design of the film. Equally satisfying is Cuaron’s clever inclusion of political context that provides for the most pleasing dramatic moments.

Roma is likely to find great success in the awards season this year; credit should be given to the sheer flair of the film’s design and Cuaron’s astute writing and cinematography. However, beneath the art of Roma lies a lesser film, that only sporadically hits its targets of emotion and excitement.