El Planeta

Clever, stylish and subtle, El Planeta made me wish more indie movies got made today! We need such vantages into the world

A mother and daughter each do their best to fail upwards after being abandoned by the family patriarch. They do so with humor and grace. Beautifully shot in digital black and white, the washed-up backgrounds of post-recession Gijon, Spain tell their own story through a dry, saline sense of time and warmth. For fans of nouvelle-vague, Miranda July. The fullest expression of director/star Ulman's artistic vision to date.

This film was fantastic for so many reasons. First off, as a director she chose restraint where most American films (much indie film included) are afraid to do so. Many moments spoke for themselves and she didn't fall into the trap of needing them to be neatly tied or revisited.

She was not afraid of silences and visual poetry, which my wife and I enjoyed immensely.

For anyone lucky enough to have lived in Spain (we lived there and in Argentina for many years, seeing the effects of economic crises up close) it is clear that there is no forced attempt at dark comedy here - the combination of economic crises and rigid bureaucracy forces thousands to emigrate and leaves hard working, decent people in insanely complex isolation with no way out. Extreme choices result. Sometimes a little laughter is essential to survival in those situations! Through the small simple world she creates (undoubtedly on a very tight budget) she portrays this brilliantly.

And her Mom?! It appears this is the only acting she's ever done and she was fantastic!

Thank you, Amalia! We loved it.

El Planeta tracks soon-to-be evicted mother-daughter grifters, María Rendueles and Leonor (or Leo) Jimenez, in the aftermath of the 2008-2014 Spanish financial crisis. Based on real life mother-daughter scammers, Justina and Ana Belén (Las Falsas Ricas de Gijón), who swindled up to 6000 euros in restaurants and establishments in Gijón.

María and Leo follow a similar trajectory in the picaresque film, often finding replenishment in each other's company in an otherwise starved world. Many scenes present portraits of idle time. Shots are often stationary, long and wide with few closeups, reminiscent of Claire Denis, tinged with the domestic intimacies of Hong Sang-soo, and Jim Jarmusch's unhurried, deadpan black and white early work. Enveloped by the vast oceanic landscapes of the bored port of Gijón, Ulman's hometown, the city's dead-endedness evokes the silent desperation of Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show (1971). The city is desolate, almost entirely populated by eldery people, with most of its businesses permanently closed and shrouded in for sale signs, wood, and graffiti. The world is built entirely around money, all María and Leo can inevitably do is wait for the government to figure out they don't have it and later be escorted to society's exit. Still, the two choose to retain some agency and personal sense of dignity as they opt to exit well-dressed and freshly manicured by controlling the last thing they have left, their bodies.

This is a very good film. I haven't looked up the background of the filmmaker but i really do hope she makes more movies. There is a lot of depth and sweetness here, edged gently by the grittiness of tough living and struggles in our world today. But mainly there are many delicate touches of an idiosyncratic, personal vision that reaches your heart and goes about playfully but also doesn't lie about hard things.