Ashley Elaine York

Ashley Elaine York
Int’l Film/TV Correspondent and Corus Entertainment PhD Fellow in Television Studies at the University of Alberta, Ashley Elaine York. Contact her at: TalkFilmandTVwithAshleyYork@gmail.com. All photophraphs and words are the creation of Miss York. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED c. 2010.

Friday, January 21, 2011

The WRITERS-DIRECTORS OF THE MAID (LA NANA) RETURN TO SUNDANCE WITH OLD CATS (LOS GATOS VIEJOS)


Ashley Elaine York @ Sundance 2011

January 21, 2011

The return of Chilean writers-directors Pedro Peirano and Sebastian Silva to Sundance was much anticipated after their previous film, THE MAID, won the World Cinema Jury Prize in 2009.

Both a chamber drama and a character study, OLD CATS centers around a female protagonist who tries to change her life by healing her damaged relationship with her eldest daughter, Rosario, before she dies.

Peirano and Silva are fond of testing the abilities of their characters to change their lives. Indeed, they explored the same theme in THE MAID, when Raquel (Catalina Saavedra, who plays Hugo, Rosario's lesbian lover, in this film), changed her life by changing her attitude, in finally accepting her social role as a part of her employer's 'household,' rather than--as she had so yearned--a member of her family.

Raquel was comparatively young, 41, and had worked for twenty-three years as a housemaid before coming to terms with her reality.  Isadora, at 92, has simply run out of time. "Sometimes, life doesn't really allow you to redeem yourself,” Silva said. “You no longer have enough time to change your life.”  Thus, the filmmakers' chamber drama/character study  “embraces mediocrity, and the fact that you won't be able to 'right' all of the wrongs of your life before you die."

OLD CATS is shot almost entirely in the house (as was the case with THE MAID), and centers around Isadora, played by Chilean theatre star Belgica Castro, and her husband Enrique (Alejandro Sieveking).  The film turns when her daughter Rosario (Claudia Celedon) calls to say she will be dropping by later in the day for a chat about her recent vacation to the Caribbean.  In reality, Isadora very well knows that her daughter has a more sinister motive up her sleeve.

After Rosario arrives, it takes little time for her plan to become clear.  She wants her mother to sign over her apartment; and, in exchange, she and her lover will promise to take care of Isadora in her old age.

As Rosario, Hugo, Enrique and Isadora are confined within the house, their discussions grow more heated, and their facades grow thinner.  Rosario refuses to leave before the paperwork is signed; and, of course, Isadora at her age can't “get away” from her crazy, coke-snorting daughter and her partner-in-crime.  She has the legs of a ninety-two year old woman and lives on the eighth-floor of a building in which the elevator is broken down more often than it is working.  Thus, the themes of old age and changing one's life are layered with that of confinement to create a compelling narrative about these characters and their delimited choices.

The old couple isn't without strategy, however.  So, before he leaves to pick up pastries to accompany tea, Enrique writes a note on a napkin and hands it to Isadora.  He instructs her to hold onto it, so she can remind herself of the situation in case she 'loses time.'  But, later when the old woman drops the tissue, Rosario sees what is written on it when she retrieves it, and loses her temper.  Already wired from her numerous visits to the bathroom to beef up her buzz, she is unable to cope with the tension, the stress, and the embarrassment of the situation and, instead, flees the scene.

"If Isadora had been younger,” Silva said, “she'd have been able to simply walk down the stairs, go after her daughter, and make her understand. But, because Isadora is forced to remain upstairs, her daughter—and the hope of reconciling with her—is lost to her forever."

These and other mundane, day-to-day realities of old age are brilliantly captured with luxuriously long one-takes, a slowly moving hand-held camera, and lengthy periods of relative quiet and little movement among the actors that serve as the foundational production techniques of many European films, but are considered indulgent (or even boring) by Hollywood standards.

In OLD CATS, Silva and Peirano expertly use their art house filmmaking roots to shoot a movie that brilliantly illustrates the comedies and horrors of being 92 and confined to your eighth-floor Santiago flat because your body simply doesn't allow you to make that long, hard descent on foot when the elevator is broken down, which is most of the time. And, therefore, this film, above all else, is about acceptance. As in the character of 'the maid' Raquel, who finally frees herself from the torture of not “belonging” to—or being a true member of—the family for which she works, Isadora the 'old cat' finally accepts that her possibilities are delimited by her age.

Peirano and Silva were so intrigued with the Chilean theatre stars, Belgica Castro and Alejandro Sieveking, that they based the film on the difficulties (and surroundings) they faced in real life. “To us, it didn't matter if our film was fiction or documentary, as long as it represented them and the realities of their life as they grow older," said Silva.

Besides working the real-life elevator fiasco into the script, the neorealist writers-directors also used Belgica's fear of water to drive the drama of the narrative. After Claudia fled the apartment in anger and shame, Isadora painstakingly worked her way down eight flights, one step at a time. But, once again, she 'loses time' along the way, and comes to to find herself standing in a water fountain across the street from her building, frightened and alone.

"Belgica was traumatized by water as a girl,” Silva said, “so it was very difficult for her to get through that scene. We knew going in we could only shoot it once,” said Silva. “And, thank God, we got it on the first take," Pierano added, laughing.

The filmmakers heretofore in their career have used a minimalist approach to writing and directing, in order to draw out great acting performances, and let the quiet, reflective moments on screen speak for themselves.

“We didn't change Belgica and Alejandro 's apartment, where we shot; they had two old cats who lived with them, so we used them in the film,” said Silva. “They became part of the environment.  And we didn't wish to change that environment. This screenplay very much came out of their real lives," added Peirano.

Although their story-driven techniques of using long takes and a drawn-out narrative work well for the first two-thirds of OLD CATS, their decision to slap on a Hollywood ending left a bad taste in my mouth. After eighty-five minutes of fighting her daughter on signing over her flat, when Isadora gains her full faculties after being rescued from the water fountain, she tells Eugene to print another copy of the power-of-attorney form for, all of a sudden, she is ready to hand over her flat. That this change of heart comes too fast and too quick is only one problem with the script; the filmmakers' decision to go this route also finely illustrates Hollywood's power over even the most independent of filmmaker's narrative styles today.

As jarring and unbelievable as her sudden change in attitude is, Isadora's decision to give into Rosario, without first making peace or amends with her, also serves to efficiently drive home the 'take-away' of OLD CATS:  that, sometimes, it's simply too late to change your life.

The forced ending notwithstanding, Silva and Peirano's film is beautifully shot and offers non-Chilean audiences the opportunity to see two great theatre actors at work on the big screen, tackling a story about aging (un)gracefully, a theme rarely addressed in Hollywood movies today.