For an Oscar nominated film, things have been relatively quiet for Peruvian director Claudia Llosa’s sophomore film “The Milk of Sorrow.” Losing to the Argentinean film “The Secret in Their Eyes,” ‘Milk’ quietly obtained distribution and is now readying for a late summer/early fall rollout. With some critical praise and two big awards from Berlin (FIPRESCI Prize and Golden Bear), hopefully its theatrical release gains some critical traction, as “The Milk of Sorrow” is an art-house gem that proves to be one of this year’s finest offerings.
Remarkably setting the peculiar tone is a static shot of an old woman singing unnerving lyrics, consisting of a woman getting raped, her husband being killed, and said woman being forced to put his “dead penis” in her mouth. Main protagonist Fausta (Peruvian actress Magaly Solier, who also appeared in Llosa’s debut “Madeinusa”) dips into the frame, trying to persuade her mother to eat through song. It’s a cute interaction, establishing the playful mother and daughter relationship and the daughter’s concern for her well-being. But, as Fausta turns away, her mother sinks into a peaceful death. Attempting to inform the family, Fausta becomes overwhelmed and passes out, waking up in a hospital. It is at this time that the film gets weirder, as it is revealed that the leading lady has a potato in her vagina, a strange form of birth control that causes her much pain. Fausta’s uncle explains to the doctor that it was not the potato, but her innate fear and sadness that caused her to lose consciousness. She was birthed during a time of war and terrorism, he says, and her mother’s breast milk contained the negative sentiments that she had during these times. Thus, she was raised on the “milk of sorrow” and her attitude is inherent and impossible to mend… potato or not.
While definitely a lot to accept within the first ten minutes of a film, “Sorrow” manages to handle these elements with maturity. The tone is balanced very delicately as are the performances; loose and naturalistic with Llosa expertly navigating the Peruvian native cast. A more rigid approach with professional actors would have created a melodrama, but the realist style elevates the film above simplistic genre conventions.
Eventually, Fausta takes a maid gig in a lavish house owned by an aristocratic piano musician, entering confusing and frightful new territory. The house is lit like it is a horror set, with shadows overtaking the rooms and emptiness filling much of the estate. Oddly enough, it is here that she becomes most comfortable: she forms a somewhat withdrawn but friendly bond with the gardener, and connects with her employer through their shared interest in music. She retains her guard, though, and the sustained mood only foreshadows the inevitable collapse that will occur.
The style, framed in single long takes with few cuts, usually static, sometimes moving, and always observant, is reminiscent of early Pedro Costa or Carlos Reygadas. Despite the brilliance and critical acclaim of Llosa’s contemporaries, what opens up the possibility of wider audiences (and what probably garnered her an Oscar while the other two remain empty handed) is the enigmatic presence of central character Fausta. She’s dainty, sensitive, instantly likeable and immediately sympathetic in how she carries herself. The constant fear she has of everything around her is only reflected in the cinematography, which is drearily colored and reserved.
Quite possibly this year’s greatest discovery next to “Alamar,” the picture says a lot in a very simple way and never feels bloated. Even with its absurdist premise, the film touches upon sex, marriage and death while granting an eye into the culture of a Peruvian village. Granted, some audiences will find it difficult to accept its strange premise, but those that are able to swallow these narrative devices/societal metaphors will be pleasantly surprised in the end. Impeccably paced and consistently intriguing, “The Milk of Sorrow” cements director Claudia Llosa as an auteur to keep an eye on. [A]