Maria Candelaria

At first, it seems like this is going to be another standard melodrama, but within 10 minutes, you know that you're seeing really great actors at work in a very important film. Pedro Armendariz and Dolores del Rio are larger than life, absolutely perfect characters who love each other so sweetly and purely it makes everything else you've ever seen seem small in comparison. The photography is breathtaking, and the Mexico they live in - the floating gardens of Xochimilco at the turn of the century- is the stuff myths are made of. Of course there is conflict and drama and tragedy running all through the film, but the characters are so noble you can't feel sorry for them, no matter how badly they're treated. No one ever said this is supposed to be a realistic movie, but it certainly delivers an emotional jolt. It makes you not only fall in love with Maria Candelaria and Lorenzo Rafael, but with Mexico. It's like watching a beautiful dream unfold. No wonder so many Mexicans still mention this as their absolutely all time favorite film. Put it at the top of the list of films to see if you want to know more about Mexico's golden age of cinema.

For the younger generations to see movies like this one, may seem that they are not real. They may imagine that the story being told was created by some sick mind. How can it be possible that human beings were so miserable? This story happens in what's now a suburb of Mexico City, but which at that time(early 1940's)was a little village by itself. The destiny of the poor people, specially if they were indians, was to live a life of misery. The few rich owners of the majority of the land and the resources in the area dictated what had to be done. If you were an Indian the situation was even worse. They decided, for their own benefit, the rules that had to be obeyed. If, like in this movie, one of those indians was a beautiful woman that was even worse for her, because she could be taken by the ruling class as a simple sex toy. If she would not accept this, she and anyone close to her would suffer all type of hardships. It is a beautifully told story that could have been a true one.

Talk about the sins of the father... well this time it's the sins of the mother that have earned the eponymous girl (Dolores del Rio) the enmity of her devout and rather hypocritical neighbours. Her troubles have only been exacerbated by her relationship with the dashing "Lorenzo Rafael" (Pedro Armendáriz) which is causing some jealousy too - especially from the vocal and quite obnoxious "Lupe" (Margarita Cortés). As a result of her shunning, "Maria" finds that she owes local grandee "Don Damian" (Miguel Inclán) the enormous sum of 15 pesos (almost a third has been spent on soap!!) and unless she settles then he is going to take her newborn sow as payment. They are now in a catch 22. The villagers will not let them sell their flowers or vegetables, so how to raise the cash? They travel to a distant market in the hope of doing just that, but when she is approached by a wealthy painter (Alberto Galán) they both take flight - and are no better off! Their waterside home is also the home to some mosquitoes and when she falls ill, decisions with far reaching effects have to be made by "Lorenzo" that rather plays into the hands of her enemies and leaves them both vulnerable to the worst of scenarios with only the local priest (Rafael Icardo) and the painter in their corner. Now the elephant in the room is that del Rio was forty years old here, and so convincing us that she is the innocent young girl does require a bit of cinematic licence. That said, she does offer us a delicately constructed characterisation of a young woman, very much in love, who just wants to be content. The photography and the peaceful settings of their adobe hut work well as a contrast to the unpleasantness they both face from a community that, despite it's religiosity, is bitter and unforgiving. The score also contributes well as we head towards our biblical denouement. Director Emilio Fernández has crafted a gentle story here that takes quite a swipe at small town mentality and double-standards, and jealousy and at hopelessness, but it's never a depressing film - there is honour here amongst some of the characters. It does take just a little too long to get going, but once we get going it's worth a watch.

To put it simply, it's brilliant: the direction by Emilio Fernández, the black and white photo by Gabriel Figueroa, the music by Francisco Dominguez and not least the acting by the legendary stars Dolores del Rio and Pedro Armendáriz. I think this film is the top peak in the career of Emilio Fernández, even if he made many other movie classics like Enamorada, Flor Silvestre or La Perla. Maria Candelaria (Xochimilco) is perhaps a Cinema Classic most people have been searching for but never found. And there are English subtitles. I am wondering why this movie never comes to discussion when film people make lists about the Best Movie of the Century. Think it's a kind of mystery.

Movies are like books. They live their lives, with dreams and expectations, waiting for that moment giving them their full sense. And I think this is true for any work of art, literature or music, visual or performing art. Sometimes such a life is flowing along your own life, even if you are not aware. It sends you signals now and then, waiting patiently for the moment when you make the connection: the moment for which it has lived its whole life. Aisareru isshun ga watashi no subete ni naru - the moment you feel you are loved is a kernel squeezing your entire life.

I was a child when I heard first time about Maria Candelaria. I knew vaguely that it was a movie with a beautiful woman and a dramatic story of love, as Mexican movies always were. I cannot remember, maybe I have read a few lines about it in some cinema magazine, or maybe I saw once the movie poster, anyway I didn't have the chance to watch it. The name remained in my memory, sometimes coming at the surface and raising my curiosity: Maria Candelaria! Years were passing, nobody mentioned this movie anymore, as new films were coming and old movies were forgotten, I was no more a child, then I realized that I was getting old, the name was coming to me very rarely, like in a brief dream: Maria Candelaria! I didn't know who had starred in the movie. I thought that Pedro Armendáriz should have been the male lead, like in so many other Mexican movies of that epoch. What about the woman? Was she Maria Félix? It took many decades till I started to look for information. No, it was not Maria Félix. The heroine of the movie was another great Mexican actress, Dolores del Rio.

And then I found the movie on youTube. Was it, for Maria Candelaria, that moment? Aisareru isshun ga watashi no subete ni naru? A movie so far in time and space, isn't it too outdated? Or simply irrelevant? Xochimilco, the place where the story unfolds, is now an international tourist attraction, with its trajineras flowing over the myriad of canals, along the chinampas. What was in 1909 a harsh environment inhabited by primitive fold is now space of rich folklore. Still, there are people living there like in 1909, overwhelmed by poverty and by the lack of any comfort. Living on those chinampas, surrounded by canals, lacking the running water and the drainage. Maybe they are no more hating the women whose mothers happened to have been prostitutes, but, look: all over the world, people still hate those who happen to be different. Difference of skin color, origin, religion, sexual orientation, and so many others.

Coming back to this movie made in 1943 and telling a story from 1909, I think the plot is consistent, the action is well led toward its outcome, but there is another merit that I believe is more important: the film director (Emilio Fernández) knew how to look beyond the harshness and injustices of that life, beyond the casual villainy of those primitive people: he knew how to discover the profound poetry of that universe, with nature and humans sharing the same identity, molded by legends and traditions, by the good and the bad.