Slow, repetitive musing upon awaiting one's demise
Mamay Umeng is not a movie for the hurried. There is nothing there but still shots of the few locations inhabited, or visited by the ancestral protagonist, Mamay Umeng. His sleeping room, the dining room, the living room, the patio, this or that road, the beach, some other places and a small path across the river, which serves as some kind of bridge between two lands, twice attempted to be crossed by Umeng, twice failingly. The first time, the voice of his daughter calls him back home, the second time, it's his grandson who runs to him in an effort to walk him back. You'll have understood that Mamay is willing to "cross to the other side" and meet his timely demise.
And that he succeeds, at his third attempt, when the sun has already gone down and the sky has already darkened with rain-heavy clouds. Psychedelic music plays, we see him limp all the way to the opposite forest, and the film ends. But that should come as no surprise, for the whole movie documents the signs of approaching death, not as an inescapable and external force, but as a conscience, slowly growing over the daily examinations of Mamay's body, his struggles over everyday tasks, the disinterest of his relatives and ultimately, the way they infantilized him. Many times over, the director shows how aging is akin to going backwards ; literally, every time Mamay is brought back from the crossing path ; although figuratively as well, when she places in several scenes the old, chelonian Mamay by the ebullient youth, especially his grandson, whose treatment by his mother (Mamay's daughter) reflects Mamay's treatment by his family.
His awareness of death is rendered on screen through the repetitions of the same scenes, every time with changes so subtle an untrained eye might elude them : differences in light, shade, ambient sounds, presence or absence of objects. Albeit Mamay rejoices over these details, he understands he is henceforth unable to provoke them. Having lived so long, he's now like a stone, a timeless tree, the unmoving water of the ocean in which he bathes, a turtle so still you may not notice she even breathes. As such, Mamay knows well he must leave to be again part of the elements he worships.
While not revolutionary nor tremendously bold, this movie is as soothing as it is emotive.
And that he succeeds, at his third attempt, when the sun has already gone down and the sky has already darkened with rain-heavy clouds. Psychedelic music plays, we see him limp all the way to the opposite forest, and the film ends. But that should come as no surprise, for the whole movie documents the signs of approaching death, not as an inescapable and external force, but as a conscience, slowly growing over the daily examinations of Mamay's body, his struggles over everyday tasks, the disinterest of his relatives and ultimately, the way they infantilized him. Many times over, the director shows how aging is akin to going backwards ; literally, every time Mamay is brought back from the crossing path ; although figuratively as well, when she places in several scenes the old, chelonian Mamay by the ebullient youth, especially his grandson, whose treatment by his mother (Mamay's daughter) reflects Mamay's treatment by his family.
His awareness of death is rendered on screen through the repetitions of the same scenes, every time with changes so subtle an untrained eye might elude them : differences in light, shade, ambient sounds, presence or absence of objects. Albeit Mamay rejoices over these details, he understands he is henceforth unable to provoke them. Having lived so long, he's now like a stone, a timeless tree, the unmoving water of the ocean in which he bathes, a turtle so still you may not notice she even breathes. As such, Mamay knows well he must leave to be again part of the elements he worships.
While not revolutionary nor tremendously bold, this movie is as soothing as it is emotive.
- Sausau
- Feb 8, 2015