The Headless Woman

OK, how can I begin with this...

First, I was expecting lots from this movie, now that I'm more used to Argentinian's films. But oh my God... this 80 (sufferable) minutes wasn't on my expectations.

The story & the way it is shot, yes, is beautiful and completely interesting, and some people will say that the slow pace is necessary... Well, I DON'T think so... the slow pace made me wanna leave the theater since the first 30 minutes, (and actually some people at the theater left) I know Martel normally uses this kind of rhythm in her movies, but in a completely different and interesting way!! (as in La Ciénaga & La Niña Santa) and usually (apparently) nothing happens, BUT everything is happening, right there in front of you.

Well, in this one, apparently nothing happens, and actually... NOTHING is happening.

And all that technical things, like using that kind of lenses and that focus, (that's the only way to show what the character is feeling/thinking?? Don't think so!) and cutting the character's head all the time... Well, there is a moment when enough is definitely, enough.

Bored me to the core, HATE WHEN PEOPLE DO FILMS FOR THEMSELVES BUT NOT SO INTERESTING FILMS FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO SEE.

The plot (apparently) was interesting, and (again I repeat) she knows how to shoot and camera movements are beautiful, but come on!! Tell me this story in 40 minutes not in 80!!

And all that lesbian stuff... totally and completely unnecessary.

If you really want to see it (as I did), wait till it crashes video clubs.

This is definitely a strange film. It is certainly not for everyone, but it is not without anything good. To say this film has a story is like saying The Tree of Life has a plot. True but misleading. This movie does not follow any traditional narrative structure and lacks a clear resolution. It is written as if you are following a women as she goes through her daily life and as the film goes on it feels less like a film and more like a strangely filmed documentary. It has a unique visual style that heightens the sense of confusion felt by the protagonist by utilizing long takes that keep her in the frame, but cut off most of the action. It can feel at times like it is being strangely filmed for no good reason other than to be different. If you are looking for a strong story and/or plot you will be disappointed, but you should judge the film on its own terms and try to appreciate what its trying to do. It is by no means great and if you not are a fan of these kinds of films then you should avoid this one, but is at the very least an visual interesting film if somewhat narratively weak.

Vero (Maria Onetto) has run over something while traveling back home, but she's totally scared and shocked to stop and watch (was it a boy or a dog?). Instead, she just goes on... from that moment,for Vero its time to try to forget.

Blames, ghosts, fears and uncertainties turn the third Lucrecia Martel's film into a masterpiece which will divide even to her fans. There are many feelings around the story and no one is completely shown or expressed. The clues to find out what Vero run over slowly appear but don't expect to understand clearly what happened, and neither understand what is she thinking nor feeling. Her head seems having stayed on the road where she had the accident and now is everything is dark and confused.

Lucrecia Martel's camera shoots the story in a society where the social differences are clear, but their characters are not aware of it.

The performances are quite good. Maria Onetto is so expressive! all of them are really involved with the film. Even Inés Efrón is good! - because I still cant understand why critics said she was excellent in 'XXY'.

As I said, 'The headless woman' is not for everyone, ''it is confused ,too experimental and not totally resolved'' some wrote. But trust me, it's intelligent, different and sensitive. It is a road to nowhere, it is a map without any road. Because she has lost her head in that accident and as a viewer you just follow the road you may feel is the right to understand Vero and the story.

Thanks Lucrecia!... again.

10/10

Wow. A lot going' on here. So let's jump right into a hearty but brief dissection of the unusual and unorthodox Argentinean drama "The Headless Woman".

A well-to-do dentist (María Onetto in a mesmerizing performance) hits something with her car on a dirt back road. A dog? A kid? It's not made expressly clear as she doesn't go back to investigate, instead choosing to drive onward. This occurs in the first few minutes of the story. For the rest of the film we watch as this woman descends ever deeper into a kind of detached and dazed mental and emotional disintegration. Metaphorically, she has "lost her head". Is she riddled by guilt? Fear? Uncertainty? Anything and everything? Writer/Director Lucrecia Martel never brings this entirely into focus, not unlike several of the fuzzily photographed scenes she utilizes to tell her peculiar tale.

One thing for sure, however. Martel has intentionally fashioned a treatise on an indoctrinated class separation between "the haves" and "the have-nots". She decisively presents this socioeconomic chasm as firmly entrenched institution in her native Argentina.

What is not nearly as obvious is the interpretation of "The Headless Woman" as allegorical commentary. And while, granted, this may be a stretch, it is not out of line by any means, either. To wit, Martel seems to be suggesting that this woman's capacity to put a potential tragedy behind her virtually as if it had never even happened is at least effectively similar to an apparent reluctance by many in Argentina to recognize the appalling and systematic mass executions by the country's government of those classified as dissident and subversive from the mid-1970's through the mid-'80's.

The closing blurred images of "The Headless Woman" depict a bewildered soul, one by way of the machinations of those around her who possess the power inherent to make unpleasant things "go away", is free to go on about the privileged preoccupations of fraternizing and partying with those of "her kind". And may the past be damned.

Or, more accurately, as we have come to understand over the trancelike course of events heretofore chronicled, and which are almost unquestionably still fated to linger in the memory of this descendant of the fortunate, damning.

Martel is quickly becoming a master of her own filmic sensibility, which I might call the "art of eavesdropping cinema," and she makes consummate use of something inherent to the medium to take us inside the characters and content of stories that have almost nothing to do with traditional plot points.

As an audience, we are all eavesdroppers (or voyeurs) when we watch a movie. And Martel's sensibility, or way of telling a story, is not only to provide clues to what she is investigating, but to inform us with what she considers important about it. There is a bit of Hitchcock (Rear Window comes to mind), and certainly some of Altman's audio technique around conversation. There is also an exploration of neurosis that one might liken to Almodovar (her producer), yet without the bold, soap operatic farce. And there is also something of Bergman and Antonioni.

La Mujer Sin Cabeza (while not my favorite of her films) is still a sure step forward as a filmmaker. This is not only her most focused film, but it makes use of a more developed cinematic technique than either of her previous two films. Strangely, it has not been received as well. The problem, I believe, has much to due to the predisposition of most film viewers, who not only lack of patience, but the ability to adjust to a film operating in ways they are not accustomed to.

Martel's narratives may seem disjointed at first, as they jump from one scene to another without obvious connection, but they are extremely well thought out. The problem, as I said, has more to do with confounded viewer expectations, and the inability to adapt to a different approach in cinematic narrative, one that is very appropriate to the content of Martel's design. For the uninitiated, her films benefit from a second viewing, if only because what at first seems insignificant or disconnected is actually very important, and provides access to her dry subtle satire.

The power of "Mujer Sin Cabeza," (as with all films) is grounded in our perceptions of the main character's experience (or our experience of her perceptions), which not only infect us with her mental / emotional state, but draw us into the kind of life that she leads, in the balance, providing us a window into modern day Argentina.

Here, we are also made aware of a social system in the midst of decay, being held together by the ever more twisted and frayed threads of a colonial past that seeks preservation, in spite of increasing moral dysfunction, and the inability to take responsibility for anything that interferes with the social system beyond making it disappear...