The Milk of Sorrow. It's a bit like a very long bus trip to a far away destination, through a barren, deserted landscape. You drive along for hours, and nothing much happens. You gaze out of the window at the rocks and dirt, the dirt and rocks. Then whoosh, out of nowhere, a man on a white stallion, wearing a sombrero and carrying a machine gun gallops past in the opposite direction. You only see him for a few seconds, then he's gone, and you're left wondering if it really happened.
Well, perhaps that's a bit unfair. But The Milk of Sorrow is slow. I've nothing against slow films. In fact, I usually prefer them, but even by slow film standards, it's pretty slow. And although it's only 95 minutes long, it could probably have been done in an hour.
It's a peculiar little story. Set in present day Peru, there is only one main character, a young Peruvian peasant woman called Fausta. We open with Fausta witnessing the dying moments of her mother. She is now a very old lady, and she recounts through song how her husband was murdered, and she was raped while pregnant with Fausta. The real-life historical context to this is Peru in the 1980s, when Shining Path terrorist activities were at their height, and peasants were subject to their brutal violence. Now in her early twenties, and living with her uncle, Fausta is infected with the milk of sorrow. The milk of sorrow is believed to be a disease she contracted through drinking her mother's breast milk, and has caused her soul to be lost.
The only emotion Fausta feels is fear. Consquently, she won't go anywhere alone, and that is a problem. She wants to take her mother's body back to her village so that she can be buried with her father. But that costs money. Her uncle is already poor, and his priority is taking care of the living. Fausta is forced to face her fear and go out to work. She takes a job at the Big House, where she meets Aída, the sympathetic Lady of the House, and Noé, the kindly gardener. However, the only results of Aida and Noés' gentle attempts to coax Fausta into a more normal existence are long, empty minutes of gazing into space, leaning against walls, and watching television.
While the script is horribly thin, The Milk of Sorrow does have several redeeming features. The photography is usually beautiful and manages to show both the romance and desolation of Peru. The portrayal of day-to-day life for your average working class Peruvian, is completely realistic in its banality. The insight into the superstitious beliefs of peasants is convincing. There are wonderful flashes of ironic humour. And as a tiny cameo of a piece of real history it is very moving.
I wish it was better. It can't be easy being a filmmaker in Peru. Given the limited budget, and few resources, The Milk of Sorrow is a remarkable achievement. But, much as I want to like it, the script doesn't offer much to get hold of. I'm sure that the nomination in the 2010 Oscars for Best Foreign Language film will have given the film industry in Peru an enormous boost. That is A Good Thing. But is this really one of the world's best foreign language films of 2009?
Well, perhaps that's a bit unfair. But The Milk of Sorrow is slow. I've nothing against slow films. In fact, I usually prefer them, but even by slow film standards, it's pretty slow. And although it's only 95 minutes long, it could probably have been done in an hour.
It's a peculiar little story. Set in present day Peru, there is only one main character, a young Peruvian peasant woman called Fausta. We open with Fausta witnessing the dying moments of her mother. She is now a very old lady, and she recounts through song how her husband was murdered, and she was raped while pregnant with Fausta. The real-life historical context to this is Peru in the 1980s, when Shining Path terrorist activities were at their height, and peasants were subject to their brutal violence. Now in her early twenties, and living with her uncle, Fausta is infected with the milk of sorrow. The milk of sorrow is believed to be a disease she contracted through drinking her mother's breast milk, and has caused her soul to be lost.
The only emotion Fausta feels is fear. Consquently, she won't go anywhere alone, and that is a problem. She wants to take her mother's body back to her village so that she can be buried with her father. But that costs money. Her uncle is already poor, and his priority is taking care of the living. Fausta is forced to face her fear and go out to work. She takes a job at the Big House, where she meets Aída, the sympathetic Lady of the House, and Noé, the kindly gardener. However, the only results of Aida and Noés' gentle attempts to coax Fausta into a more normal existence are long, empty minutes of gazing into space, leaning against walls, and watching television.
While the script is horribly thin, The Milk of Sorrow does have several redeeming features. The photography is usually beautiful and manages to show both the romance and desolation of Peru. The portrayal of day-to-day life for your average working class Peruvian, is completely realistic in its banality. The insight into the superstitious beliefs of peasants is convincing. There are wonderful flashes of ironic humour. And as a tiny cameo of a piece of real history it is very moving.
I wish it was better. It can't be easy being a filmmaker in Peru. Given the limited budget, and few resources, The Milk of Sorrow is a remarkable achievement. But, much as I want to like it, the script doesn't offer much to get hold of. I'm sure that the nomination in the 2010 Oscars for Best Foreign Language film will have given the film industry in Peru an enormous boost. That is A Good Thing. But is this really one of the world's best foreign language films of 2009?