La mujer sin cabeza

OK, how can I begin with this...

First, I was expecting lots from this movie, now that I'm more used to Argentinian's films. But oh my God... this 80 (sufferable) minutes wasn't on my expectations.

The story & the way it is shot, yes, is beautiful and completely interesting, and some people will say that the slow pace is necessary... Well, I DON'T think so... the slow pace made me wanna leave the theater since the first 30 minutes, (and actually some people at the theater left) I know Martel normally uses this kind of rhythm in her movies, but in a completely different and interesting way!! (as in La Ciénaga & La Niña Santa) and usually (apparently) nothing happens, BUT everything is happening, right there in front of you.

Well, in this one, apparently nothing happens, and actually... NOTHING is happening.

And all that technical things, like using that kind of lenses and that focus, (that's the only way to show what the character is feeling/thinking?? Don't think so!) and cutting the character's head all the time... Well, there is a moment when enough is definitely, enough.

Bored me to the core, HATE WHEN PEOPLE DO FILMS FOR THEMSELVES BUT NOT SO INTERESTING FILMS FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO SEE.

The plot (apparently) was interesting, and (again I repeat) she knows how to shoot and camera movements are beautiful, but come on!! Tell me this story in 40 minutes not in 80!!

And all that lesbian stuff... totally and completely unnecessary.

If you really want to see it (as I did), wait till it crashes video clubs.

At once exquisitely crafted and exasperating, Martel's latest reflects the confused mental disintegration of a character whose problems are variably inchoate. Her crisis seems spurred by an act of accidental murder--in the countryside, she runs over something.

That it was a German Shepherd is clearly represented in one distinct post-impact shot following a prelude in which the hound is shown playing with several children. But afterward our protagonist (a dyejob-blonde, middle-aged, upper-class woman) has strange ideations of having killed a human being. Is that what really happened? Or is it just her guilt from...whatever?

There's nothing unintended in this very precisely directed movie, but at the same time its ambiguity can be frustrating. (Perhaps less so if you're better acquainted with Argentine class/race issues than me.) It's a mystery without a resolution, a thriller minus thrills. That's OK, but even as deliberate enigma "The Headless Woman" seems somewhat stillborn. (Think what Antonioni circa 1960 could have done with it!)

It's full of interesting detail yet void of larger meaning or narrative direction; intriguing in a way that stops just short of utter fascination. You can't fault the director or her actors for falling short--it's the script (also by Martel) that ends up a little too amorphous.

It's not often you see a movie that feels so close to brilliant, yet something indefinable is missing. This is a good film that perhaps in coming years will gain a reputation as an overlooked masterpiece--and while I can't sign on with that opinion right now, I can see how it might accumulate.

Wow. A lot going' on here. So let's jump right into a hearty but brief dissection of the unusual and unorthodox Argentinean drama "The Headless Woman".

A well-to-do dentist (María Onetto in a mesmerizing performance) hits something with her car on a dirt back road. A dog? A kid? It's not made expressly clear as she doesn't go back to investigate, instead choosing to drive onward. This occurs in the first few minutes of the story. For the rest of the film we watch as this woman descends ever deeper into a kind of detached and dazed mental and emotional disintegration. Metaphorically, she has "lost her head". Is she riddled by guilt? Fear? Uncertainty? Anything and everything? Writer/Director Lucrecia Martel never brings this entirely into focus, not unlike several of the fuzzily photographed scenes she utilizes to tell her peculiar tale.

One thing for sure, however. Martel has intentionally fashioned a treatise on an indoctrinated class separation between "the haves" and "the have-nots". She decisively presents this socioeconomic chasm as firmly entrenched institution in her native Argentina.

What is not nearly as obvious is the interpretation of "The Headless Woman" as allegorical commentary. And while, granted, this may be a stretch, it is not out of line by any means, either. To wit, Martel seems to be suggesting that this woman's capacity to put a potential tragedy behind her virtually as if it had never even happened is at least effectively similar to an apparent reluctance by many in Argentina to recognize the appalling and systematic mass executions by the country's government of those classified as dissident and subversive from the mid-1970's through the mid-'80's.

The closing blurred images of "The Headless Woman" depict a bewildered soul, one by way of the machinations of those around her who possess the power inherent to make unpleasant things "go away", is free to go on about the privileged preoccupations of fraternizing and partying with those of "her kind". And may the past be damned.

Or, more accurately, as we have come to understand over the trancelike course of events heretofore chronicled, and which are almost unquestionably still fated to linger in the memory of this descendant of the fortunate, damning.

Vero (Maria Onetto) has run over something while traveling back home, but she's totally scared and shocked to stop and watch (was it a boy or a dog?). Instead, she just goes on... from that moment,for Vero its time to try to forget.

Blames, ghosts, fears and uncertainties turn the third Lucrecia Martel's film into a masterpiece which will divide even to her fans. There are many feelings around the story and no one is completely shown or expressed. The clues to find out what Vero run over slowly appear but don't expect to understand clearly what happened, and neither understand what is she thinking nor feeling. Her head seems having stayed on the road where she had the accident and now is everything is dark and confused.

Lucrecia Martel's camera shoots the story in a society where the social differences are clear, but their characters are not aware of it.

The performances are quite good. Maria Onetto is so expressive! all of them are really involved with the film. Even Inés Efrón is good! - because I still cant understand why critics said she was excellent in 'XXY'.

As I said, 'The headless woman' is not for everyone, ''it is confused ,too experimental and not totally resolved'' some wrote. But trust me, it's intelligent, different and sensitive. It is a road to nowhere, it is a map without any road. Because she has lost her head in that accident and as a viewer you just follow the road you may feel is the right to understand Vero and the story.

Thanks Lucrecia!... again.

10/10

The Headless Woman moves to the beat of its own drummer, which is Argentinian director Lucrecia Martel, and if one is able to go with it it's quite an existential trip. Existential by which I mean a character's actions have consequences - or, if they don't, there is still the lingering sensation that they do. In this case a woman, Vero (Maria Onetto), hits something (or someone, an animal or a person, most likely a person), but keeps driving on. We don't really know what she hit either as Martel keeps the camera moving away from the person or thing from a great distance. It could be one of the children we see playing in the first scene in the film. Or it could be one of the dogs which Vero's husband or friend or other makes light of. Could be just a gigantic damn pot-hole. Who knows?

The film moves along like an existential parable, or, to put a more apt comparison, Antonioni's L'Avventura. We see something happen early in the film, and the rest of the runtime is spent with a character who keeps trying to face up to what happened, even as the details of the event and what happened slip away and the mundane quality of life takes over once again. We're not directed to the overarching issue of a real 'plot', just little things happening around Vero. She's in a bathroom soon after the accident cleaning herself up and in the background we hear dialog that could be referring to her about an accident, but isn't. She's in a car with someone passing by right where the accident was, and firemen are looking at at a pipe that's clogged (presumably from the storm) to see what it is. Could be anything, could be nothing. Who knows anything?

The Headless Woman is not for the impatient; even at 87 minutes it can be tiresome to see nothing exactly "happen" except a middle-aged woman with distinctly frizzy blonde hair (helping to also make an incredible poster image) quietly fretting about what happened, while her family and friends continue on with whatever is they do in their sort of bourgeois existence, and she goes back to work as a dentist. It's safe to say even I got a little fidgety at times. But I was never really bored, and her performance Onetto's performance kept me going even when the mundane took over. What happens when there are no consequences, Martel might be asking? Can one wipe away something like a hit-and-run when there's little left of evidence as to what was or wasn't there? It becomes a minor issue as the film goes on, being almost nothing in the last ten minutes.

But the film itself matters because it's finely shot (the cinematographer should have gotten all the awards he could get for his subtle and carefully haunted lighting and framing), and the tone is so assured. This is a mature film dealing with a subject that seems like what it is, a situation. A niche film that, when it works, is brilliant, and when it doesn't still looks pretty. Like Antonioni.