Roma (2018)

Roma is a work of art. More specifically, it's a tapestry. Love, devotion, tragedy, grief and hardship in a tumultuous 1970's Mexico. This is the film that Alfonso Cuaron never wants you to forget that he made. Fortunately, we won't. A technical visionary director in an intimate setting, with a story close to his heart, is something an audience from all corners of the world can look in wonder at.

I realized I was watching something truly special within the first few minutes. We follow Cleodegaria, the indigenous maid, as she cleans around the sprawling upper-middle class house of a wealthy Mexican family. The camera follows her every movement and shows every last detail of her routine. In gorgeous black and white, Cuaron takes many of his cues from French New Wave cinema, and it's storyline is reminiscent of that era as well. Cleo is separated from her employers through class and race. But the human commonality of compassion, as we see by the end of the picture, pierces through those barriers. Cuaron also paints a dire picture of 20th century Mexico, through it's political turmoil that eerily resembles the upheavals we are seeing worldwide today.

But make no mistake, Roma doesn't exist as a celebration of Mexico. It's rather, a celebration of humanity and all that binds us together. We bleed the same blood, we cry the same tears, we love the same way. Nothing but love from me. Gracias, Aflonso.