This Chilean film is, in a word, ‘Fantastic’
"A Fantastic Woman" played in Spokane for barely a week, and it looks as if the Magic Lantern isn't going to pick it up. So if you want to see it at this point, you're going to have to wait until it's available on some streaming service. Anyway, following is the review of the film that I wrote for Spokane Public Radio:
One striking scene in the Chilean film “A Fantastic Woman” is as visually arresting as it is thematically metaphorical. In it, the character Marina – a 20-something transgender woman played by Daniela Vega – is shown walking down a city street.
A wind begins to blow. Harder, then harder still, until Marina – her clothes flapping around her – is bending over at the waist, barely able to stand, much less make any progress, against this sudden force of nature.
Welcome to her world.
Directed by Sebastián Lelio, from a script that Lelios co-wrote with Gonzalo Maza, “A Fantastic Woman” was Chile’s nominee for Best Foreign Language Oscar. Against a worthy field, including Sweden’s critically acclaimed entry “The Square,” “A Fantastic Woman” won.
And its victory owes as much to Lelio’s magically realistic stylisms as it does Vega’s powerful performance.
Those stylistic touches serve a plot that is as steeped in one of today’s most divisive issues, that of transgender identity, as it is basic: Love, unexpected death and a grief that is compounded by bias, resentment and the enduring threat of violence. In other words, pretty much the standard expected of your average Lifetime Channel movie.
Yet “A Fantastic Woman” is no mere melodrama.
The love part involves Marina and Orlando, the older man with whom she is about to move in with, an event that is curtailed when Orlando dies suddenly, and Marina is left with nowhere to turn. She certainly can’t expect any support from Orlando’s son, who can’t get Marina out of his father’s apartment quickly enough. And Orlando’s ex-wife isn’t likely to help either, wanting only for Marina to hand over her ex’s car – not to mention the dog that Marina and Orlando owned together.
Even Orlando’s brother, who at least voices sympathy, can’t – or won’t – do anything.
And then there is the police officer, a woman who claims to have seen everything and who seemingly has enough information to be on Marina’s side. But that knowledge also makes her suspect Marina’s story, especially since – at an important moment – Marina chooses to act in a way that would presume guilt.
But we know better. We get to see what no one else does, the exact circumstances of Orlando’s death, and it is clear that Marina is acting from fear. When you’re the object of scorn from everyone you meet, why would you act any other way?
That’s not to say that the film might not have benefitted had Lelio and Maza added in more of a backstory for Marina, some clues about her past and the struggles she has endured.
As it is, Lelios was lucky that he had an actress as capable as Vega to depend on. We do get to see Marina communing with another older man, presumably her music teacher. And we even get to see her perform, not just in a dance sequence – another bit of magical realism – but on the stage singing opera.
In the end, that’s enough. Vega’s Marina, with her haunted push against the enveloping winds, gives us all we need to know.