Ema, 2019.
Directed by Pablo Larraín.
Starring Mariana Di Girolamo, Gael García Bernal, Paola Giannini, Santiago Cabrera, Catalina Saavedra and Cristian Suarez.
SYNOPSIS:
A dancer deals with the fallout of a broken relationship and the absence of her adopted child, who has been taken back into the care system after a shocking incident.
Pablo Larraín has carved out a career as a darling of international cinema, winning over critics and fans with films like No and Neruda before delivering a striking English-language biopic of one of the most famous First Ladies in the fascinating Jackie. He’s back in his native Chile – specifically the stunning seaport Valparaíso – for the beguiling and occasionally frustrating Ema, which follows a hand grenade of a protagonist as she blasts apart the world around her.
Newcomer Mariana Di Girolamo steps into the title role, with a very bizarre, blonde dye job and a propensity for setting fire to things – most notably a traffic light in the movie’s strange, evocative opening image. She’s in the midst of an argumentative whirlwind with older partner Gastón (Gael García Bernal) about the adopted son they’ve recently lost to the care system after an arson incident that left Ema’s sister badly burned. Their antipathy becomes a separation, which Ema fills with chaotic sexual experiences and questionable romances, including with divorce lawyer Raquel (Paola Giannini) and firefighter Anibal (Santiago Cabrera).
There’s an anarchy and combustible energy to Ema as a character, and it’s an energy into which Larraín leans fully. The result is an opaque and turbulent drama that doesn’t care much for notions of plot or coherence, preferring instead to bombard the audience with colourful images, Climax-esque intricate dance sequences and explosions of passion. It’s an unwieldy – but oddly intriguing – collage of moods, feelings and ideas, as if the movie itself is caught in the maelstrom of Ema’s no-holds-barred take on life.
Di Girolamo is a force of nature in the title role, delivering an inscrutable and mercurial performance that seems to jam a stablising narrative anchor into the movie even amid a plot in which only she appears sure of what’s happening from scene to scene. She’s both a femme fatale and an avatar for overly self-assured, naive youth – reacting to her split from Gastón’s dance troupe by leading a group of female friends in the embrace of reggaeton, which Gastón refers to in a memorable rant as “prison music” devoid of emotion.
Her body is an elastic, nimble weapon against the world, but equally a tool of self-destruction. Ema wields sex with the same anarchic liberation that she shows in the rest of her life – she tells a prospective boss that her dance classes teach “freedom” – and it’s every bit as expressive as her dance moves. A late in the day montage of multiple sexual combinations has Ema as the only constant. She’s at the heart of everything, but just as unmoored as everybody else.
Larraín’s lack of regard for traditional narrative is certainly interesting, and DOP Sergio Armstrong consistently finds moments of striking beauty, but the chaos fogs the emotional reality to the extent that it’s difficult to know how to feel. There’s a human story to be told amid all the artful brushstrokes, but it’s constantly mangled by the slippery narrative structure and the unwillingness to sit still and focus on the people behind the writhing bodies and sputtering flamethrowers.
There’s no doubt an excellent version of Ema lurking somewhere within its DNA – a subtly different form in which the structure settles to allow the people to shine through. Mariana Di Girolamo delivers a star-making turn, but the rest of the movie rather withers in the light she casts, unable to match the intensity of her flame. It’s a shame to see Larraín on slightly disappointing form, but there’s something about this movie that seems a little too pleased with its own trickery and, therefore, lacking in the beating heart that could’ve provided the missing piece of its abstract puzzle.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Tom Beasley is a freelance film journalist and wrestling fan. Follow him on Twitter via @TomJBeasley for movie opinions, wrestling stuff and puns.
