The Milk of Sorrow

Claudia Llosa writes a peculiar, but captivating story of a young Peruvian girl living in a constant world of fear on the outskirts of Lima. Fausta is believed to be suffering from a rare disease, "La teta asustada," or the "Milk of Sorrow," which was transmitted from her mother's breast milk after she was raped by terrorists during the time of Sendero Luminoso. Facing her mother's death, Fausta is forced to overcome her fear and work in the Big House of a limeña musician. While both the music and filming are stunning, I feel that the film lacks much action or thick plot. I found it to be more of a journey, one that led Fausta from her fear to a glimpse of her freedom. Furthermore, as a viewer who has lived in Peru, the film was very nostalgic for me and I felt that it portrayed Lima and the "pueblos" with a profound sincerity.

If you are looking for a poetic and beautiful journey of a story, this film is exactly that.

I can see that or why many people will like this movie. There is the very great portrayal of the main actress, there is running theme in here that speaks to many art-house fans (even those who may not know that they are).

The pacing might seem awkward, some twists in the story line and/or character arc, might not be accessible to some viewers, but all those things make the movie even better. At least that's how I see it. Still as this is a movie that provokes or encourages you to think a lot, there might come up a few questions, story-wise and or character-wise that might leave you with a slightly bad taste.

And although up until now the review the user GeneralGrievous gave hasn't received positive feedback, you have to cut the guy some slack. If you read his review, you can understand why he didn't like the movie quite as much. I thought his review was helpful, even though I don't agree on everything he writes, because he explains not only why he thinks that way, but he gives a few glimpses into his knowledge of Peruvian film-making.

La teta asustada is not, quite understandably, everyone's cup of tea. It is a slow, pensive, drawn-out film that almost feels like an ominous daydream. There is much that goes unsaid, and if you are not familiar with the Sendero Luminoso insurgency in Peru and the enormous amount of political violence perpetrated by both rebel and government forces, the underlying forces driving the film will not make that much sense. This is particularly the case with the rather disturbing opening scene and the graphic account of the rape of the protagonist's (Fausta) mother. There are also dynamics of class, gender, language, and race at work in this film, and the interplay between them is best understood with some prior knowledge of Peru, or Latin America more generally. The opening scene and the revelation that Fausta has placed a potato in her vagina to protect her from rape would be enough to turn many people off from the beginning of the film, and for good reason. Yet this film, to its credit, in my view, refuses to be anything other than what it is – an exploration of the legacy of trauma and fear of the Sendero Luminoso insurgency and the violence that came along with it. I enjoyed this film, but I appreciate films that are slow, melancholy, and leave plenty of time for pondering. It is not necessarily a feel-good movie, but felt more like a gloomy, ambiguous French film. It had more sad moments than happy ones, although that is only fitting of a film with such a dark topic at its heart. Yet there was something bizarrely hopeful about the film, and regardless of how bad Fausta's situation may have seemed, she showed admirable courage, and a faint light does appear at the end of the tunnel.

A realistic portrayal of the impoverished suburbia of Lima, Peru is the frame-set for this fantastic story. Fausta, daughter of a woman raped by terrorists some 25 years ago, assists her mother's death and decides to take her remains back to her hometown, in the high Andes. But, apart from having to work hard to collect the money she needs for it, Fausta has a reason, deep inside, that prevents her from enjoying life or accepting her outstanding physical beauty as a normal girl.

Mastery at low-budget cinematic skill should be credited to Bollywood (the Mumbai-based Hindi language film industry) films, which may not be the most groundbreaking in technical or screen writing terms, but contain music in the form of song-and-dance numbers woven into the script in order to appeal to all segments of the audience and maximise box office receipts. Since Hollywood's multi-million budgets would never have helped shoot realistic and colourful, but rough Brazilian imagery, 'Central Station' (1998) and 'Cidade de Deus' (2002) garnered indisputable acclaim at renowned film festivals after being funded on their own. The example set by off-Hollywood movie makers' efforts have become heroic in countries where movie industry budgets are, to say the least, scarce.

This is the case for LTA. It could have been more on par to Danny Boyle's 'Slumdog Millionaire' if it wasn't for the Peruvian-Spanish meagre budget available to Peruvian young director Claudia Llosa. If you expect to see acting beaus or beautés, famous screenwriters and crew, expensive car explosions or CGI, go elsewhere. LTA is neat magic-realism, a territory where people may be poor but not disgusting, where their houses are mere recreation centres for fantasy and everyday life to play happily together. Only time will tell if the trend keeps up, spreads globally, and ends up being called Globbywood.

This is a well-told tale of hope where only two professional actors are involved. And this was as clear to Berlinale judges as it is for the general public -those with a thirst for veritable, honest, witty craftsmanship at film-making.

Writer/director Claudia Llosa loosely adapts the premise of old-time classics 'The Little Mermaid' and 'Faust' to contemporary Peru. Fausta, beautifully played by Magaly Solier, is a solitary, indigenous girl whose heart is gripped by fear. Her mother, who we see on her deathbed at the start of the film, was raped and scarred for life by The Shining Path (a radical Maoist organization that terrorized Peru during the 80s and early 90s). According to their indigenous culture, the terror felt by Fausta's mother was passed on to her through breastfeeding, a condition they call 'The Milk of Sorrow' (in Spanish, 'La Teta Asustada', which translates to 'The Frightened Tit'). Fausta is deeply suspicious of people around her, particularly men, and expresses her repressed emotions only through singing, as she performs her daily chores. Desperately in need for money to bury her dead mother, she begins to work as a housekeeper for Aida, a musician who is preparing for a concert and becomes interested in her songs of sorrow.

Llosa observes the social realities of Latin America (post-colonialism, class division, political violence), but avoids providing facile solutions. Instead, she focuses her attention on Fausta's more personal need for spiritual freedom. She does so with quiet, subtle humor and an eye for striking, poetic imagery.

I highly recommend watching this Academy Award nominee for Best Foreign Language Film and winner of the Berlin International Film Festival.