La Ciénaga

How accurate La Ciénaga is when it comes to Argentinian life is something that you feel only a select number of people could vouch for. The world in which La Ciénaga, or 'The Swamp' in English, is set comes across as quite bizarre but relatively simple; rather routine but dare I say slightly backward at the same time. Despite the rural setting and the feeling of openness such a rural setting of rolling hills and vast countryside may carry with it, The Swamp feels cramped and claustrophobic with little space to move and few incidences in which you have a space to yourself. Indeed, someone may be in the shower and someone else will run in, needing to clean their muddy foot in the shower water. On other occasions, the mother when in her bedroom will sit upright and bellow at others to get out. Its this invasion of privacy and bogged down, cramped conditions that get across the greater moments of atmosphere in The Swamp even if the film is a little hit and miss overall.

I read that the director, Lucrecia Martel, made the film based on some pretty true to life experiences in their own home and has set the film in their home area of the Salta Province in Argentina and it shows. You do get the feeling the film is a very personal project; the sort of film that can only exist through personal experience and knowledge of what certain things were like in a certain environment. In this regard, Martel comes across as a competent and very personalised filmmaker who is more interested in delivering things how they were rather than how people might want them to be.

The approach shows for the best part of the runtime. The film is slow and brooding, boggy in its approach and bleached out in the lazy sun when it isn't enclosed during a rain break and everyone must huddle indoors. It doesn't look at story as much as it adopts the approach of 'what might happen if this was the scenario'. If what Martel says about her childhood is true then it would seem they've captured the feel and atmosphere perfectly.

But I suppose it's a criticism that Martel gets across this feeling without ever actually giving us something else to cling onto. It's all well and good establishing what it may have been like living in the conditions but apart from an effective juxtaposition of rural claustrophobia and sporadic weather, there isn't really much else to shout about. I don't think the film ever gets going out of second gear and I suppose I was looking for what it was like living at these times and in these conditions. Unfortunately, Martel grounds this film in the present day and that takes away some of the retrospective approach. This cuts the characters off from reality or 'the real world' meaning it could only have been made by a certain someone whose experienced it but it can take place anywhere and at any time. I found this a little disappointing because I wanted more from what it was like to live at this 'time' in these conditions but what I got was just the 'conditions' half of the deal.

The film sees two families living in an Argenitnian province and struggling with one another more than anything else. I suppose the film centres on Mecha (Borges), a fifty-something mother who drinks, insults and accuses maids and generally does not much else apart from visit her cousin Tali (Morán) and family in a nearby town. Mecha's family is calm and quite passive, something the film really wants to get across in the early exchanges and its a comparison that works well once they arrive at the cousin's house in the slightly busier urban setting of the town. Here, it is things as basic as quickening the editing and having everybody move around a little faster than usual that gets across the new sensation.

The film relies on tiny, real life encounters for both its antagonism and story lines. Mecha's drinking acts as a back-burning threat more than anything but I don't think we ever get the feeling she could erupt into anything more than the odd rant. Adding to the intimate and enclosed surroundings is a fair amount of sexual tension between certain characters, a boy changes his shirt in a public shop in front of watching girls and later on an incidence occurs when a girl puts lotion on her body in front of a watching male who lies topless on a bed in the sun drenched arena. This twinned with the fact everyone's in swimwear for most of the time gives off an, if anything, eerie feel to the film. What's also quite alarming are the scenes in which young children carry shotguns around in the woodland; initially these are used to good effect: we hear gunshots but assume it to be thunder and then some rain falls but what's actually happening is something a little less innocent.

I don't think The Swamp was a bad film but it was particularly uneven. I like the feel and the look of the film and the study of Mecha being this ill and cut off woman to the point young kids are running around with heavy artillery is interesting. The sexual tension and the ideas for antagonism and what-have-you are there but none of them are developed to any great length although that might be the point of the film: that stuff exists, stuff happens but never usually in the order or how you'd like it to transpire.

excerpt, more at my location - La Cienaga, or The Swamp, is the debut film from Argentine filmmaker Lucrecia Martel. Originally released in 2001, the film announced the arrival of a unique new voice within international cinema. Finally granted a DVD release in the UK, it shows that the director of The Holy Girl and The Headless Woman had emerged with her distinctive and uncompromising vision of cinema already fully formed.

Beneath the surface banality of La Cienaga lies a resonant and troubling picture, the work of a filmmaker with a considered and singular artistic vision. Even if Martel's particular vision is likely to repel as many as it attracts, her film possesses a lingering, haunting power. Not especially enjoyable, but undeniably affecting.

La Ciénaga, directed by first-timer Lucrecia Martel, uses a seemingly uneventful series of episodes and an atmospheric sense of impending doom to make a statement about the decadence of the Argentine middle class. The decaying families are portrayed without much sympathy, showing them as racist, uncaring, and self-indulgent.

The screen veritably pulsates with life and ugliness. Every frame is filled with children and animals running in and out, dogs barking, everyone talking at the same time, music blaring, and the TV bellowing something about Virgin Mary sightings. It's almost as if the camera is eavesdropping on an intimate family gathering, making the viewer feel like an uninvited guest at a party.

The narrative (such as it is) is about two families and their children thrown together at the end of a stifling hot summer, and how everybody bears the marks of carelessness and inattention: scars, burns, bruises. Nothing works in this milieu; the pool is very dirty, one boy has lost one eye, another is afraid of stories about dog-rats, drinking is excessive and accidents result as a consequence. The mother (Mecha) is a drunk who just seems to be waiting for the end to face life in bed for 20 years like her own mother. She makes racist remarks directed toward her servant, yells at her own daughter Momi, (who seems to be infatuated with the servant), and makes vague plans to go to Bolivia to buy school supplies for the kids.

La Cienaga is not easy to watch. It is moody, sensual, atmospheric, almost unbearably intimate, with a constant level of anxiety and tension. You can feel the humidity building on your forehead. Danger is always near, and violence seems not just possible but probable. There is an unspoken longing for something, anything good to happen to relieve the emptiness of life. I was reminded of Chekhov and Dostoyevsky. It is almost Bunuelian in its feeling but, unlike Bunuel, it is not dark comedy, just dark.

The unspoken backdrop is the recent history of Argentina, an unending nightmare of political violence, social unrest, and fiscal disaster. Only the children give us any hope for the future. It is a compelling picture of class arrogance with an ending as moving as any I've seen. Strongly recommended but bring a lot patience and a de-humidifier.

Maybe you have to be Argentinian to really appreciate this film. In the stultifying heat of a hot, humid summer, a rich (though decaying) family sit around drinking, playing with guns, exhibiting casual racism and watching television reports of the appearance of the Virgin Mary. No-one does anything useful and very little in the way of plot occurs; indeed, even when things do happen, the film refuses to treat them as plot (for example, a late scene, threatening tragedy, is never followed up). It's a pretty powerful metaphor for national decline, and if you strain, you can detect faint hints of black humour, but even so, 'La Cienaga' is pretty devoid of conventional entertainment. The acting convinces, so does the dialogue; but there's not that much to keep you watching.

Lucrecia Martel, the talented director of "La Cienaga", creates a dark picture with this film that takes place in the northern part of Argentina that borders Bolivia. Having seen "La nina santa" prior to watching this movie, there is a sort of connection between the two, as the director explores the darker side of human beings, which seems to consume her.

"La Cienaga" is a film that mirrored the times when it was made. The last part of the 21th century was devastating for Argentina as most people were affected by the rapid changes in the economy that befell the land. As the film starts, we suffer from disorientation. We are taken to Mecha's house in the country where a group of people are seen sitting around the swimming pool. No one says anything to one another; it's as though the oppressing heat has numbed everyone. The only thing left to do is to drink to oblivion.

Mecha appears to be inebriated when she tripped and fell. The wine glass cuts her in the chest. Blood is seen all over the place. Then, as though by magic, we are taken to meet Tali and her family, who appear to live in town. There is a sharp contrast between the two households. Where Mecha's house is run down, it still shows signs of a richer past. Tali's home, on the other hand, is a much humbler place.

Ms. Martel makes a subtle comment on what she shows us. There are a lot of things that are wrong in Mecha's house, like the lesbianism shown between one of her daughters and the maid. Incest is also hinted when Jose, the older son, who has come from Buenos Aires to see his mother after her accident, shows a sick interest in his beautiful sister. He enters the bathroom while she is taking a shower. At the same time, we are shown on the television set, an incident where people are attesting to seeing the Virgin Mary in a water tank on the roof of a house.

The director imbues the film in symbolism, which seems to be hard for viewers to follow. The story is deeper than what the images present for our viewing. That is why this enigmatic film did not reach a wide audience. It's a shame because Lucrecia Martel's film has a hypnotic way to get us involved.

Graciela Borges, an Argentine film star in her own right, plays Mecha, a woman of the moneyed society who appears to have seen better days. Ms. Borges underplays her character, achieving a great appearance. Mercedes Moran, who played Helena in "La nina santa", is seen as Lita, Mecha's cousin, Lita shows a lot of common sense. She also has a lot of problems, but she is much grounded than her cousin that is decaying in the old country estate. The ensemble cast is also good.

While "La Cienaga" is a disturbing work. Lucrecia Martel wrote and directed with great style. It's worth a look of fans of the Argentine cinema because it shows one of the most original talents in a film that dares to go where others don't.