Isabella (2020)
Written and Directed by Matías Piñeiro
A film by Matías Piñeiro, a key figure in New Argentine Cinema, this beautiful picture has many elements characteristic of his work: the presence of many of the same actresses, pastoral scenes, a Shakespeare play they’re rehearsing or performing — here it’s “Measure for Measure.” (Piñeiro calls his series of films featuring parts of the Bard’s plays his “Shakespeariads.”)
The unique element of “Isabella” is an extended exploration of color by both the characters themselves as well as the filmmaker. There are two different theater works in this movie, the Shakespeare play and an unnamed play that involves a series of large scenic cutouts prepared by Mariela (Maria Villar) and Sol (Gabriella Sidon). These stage flats, with rectangles of decreasing size cut into them so that the audience looks through them into a sort of tunnel, can be lit with shifting colors along the red-purple-blue part of the spectrum.
The meaning of this effect and the rather nonsensical dialogue that accompanies it are mysterious, but the first scene of the film, set on a pier on the Rio de la Plata, is bathed in the same violet hues of the sky at dusk. In this first scene we are introduced to another of the film’s running themes, the “ritual of the twelve stones.” The ritual is a sort of divination in which you put forth a question about a potential action you plan to take. In this exercise, each stone represents a doubt. One by one, you throw the stones into the river. But if you find you can’t throw one of the stones, then your doubt is serious and must be dealt with before you can pursue the action you asked about.
Mariela’s question has to do with whether or not she should continue to pursue acting in the face of many difficulties and failures. Another character, Luciana (Agustina Muñoz) is Mariela’s frenemy. Early in the movie’s timeline — which is not presented chronologically — Luciana helps Mariela prepare for an audition for “Measure for Mease,” but beats her for the part of Isabella. And though they continue a distant acquaintance and reunite at the end of the film when Luciana produces Mariela’s unnamed play, Luciana is also Mariela’s bête noire, representing her failure.
Much of this story takes place in a large park attached to a Buenos Aires university. The women walk through this park’s canyons, streams, and extensive wooded areas, discussing their work or rehearing it. These pastoral sections are a common characteristic of New Argentine Cinema, in which woods and grasslands represent freedom. At one point one of the women remarks that police aren’t even allowed to enter the park. “You can breathe here,” she says — a significant statement given the still living memories of Argentina’s fascist dictatorship in the 1970s and 80s.
All of Piñeiro’s “Shakespeariads” breathe easy like this. Watching them is like recalling some blessed summer in your 20s when all you had to do was create art with like-minded people, a happy, fulfilling time of work/play like that foretold by utopians or some spiritual traditions. Conflict may be present, but in an environment where cooperation is key — like being in the cast of a play — the completion of good work is always in sight, and all doubts are finally cast away like stones.
Available on Amazon Prime. But it’s always a good idea to keep an eye on Mubi, which makes many Argentine films available to U.S. viewers.
Previous reviews by me of Piñeiro’s “Shakespeariads”:
Viola (2012)
The Princess of France (2014)