First and foremost, let me just say that La Ciénaga is the loudest quiet movie ever. To make a film feel this disorganized requires meticulous, genius-level direction and Martel delivered with such precision. And the camera work? I had to do a standing applause for 7 minutes in my bedroom.
It sucks you right in its overlapsed conversations, often high pitched yellings accompanied with haphazard movement that was coreographed so well that it felt natural, making you catch on the chaos only once the calm resided. And calm, how does this movie define calm? Well, it might be in the static of the movie showing you a glimpse of an escapee; where The Virgin Mary would sing to you and tell you that you are blessed, prayers to assure you that everything--the heat, the distance, the void--would be just alright. Unfortunately, of course it was not as simple as it sounded. For the two intertwined families, The Virgin Mary made her appearance in a variety of forms. She appeared in the deafening sound of gun shots, in your babysitter, in a spontaneous trip to Bolivia, and she was certainly far more vile than they had expected her to be--in the sense that whilst her shadow might've remained, her light would not quite follow, enticing them of a lullaby in its nightmarish apparition. She might even
leave, after all.
One thing I also really liked was how insidious they portrayed Mecha's treatment to Isabel. No matter how many times you try, racism will ingrain itself in the soil, the selfishness of those who think they are rightly above you will cage you in guilt, until you have to eventually cut ties. Happens a lot more than you think, especially coming from a Southeast Asian background, where nannies are still normal to have.
Overall just such a riveting film.
"Where did you go?"
"Where the Virgin's been appearing. I didn't see a thing."
