A Fantastic Woman

Sebastian Lello's 'A Fantastic Woman' is, quite simply, a fantastic film, albeit a depressing watch. Telling the story of a transsexual woman whose partner dies and the hostility she faces from his family in the aftermath, it brilliantly captures a life of continual (in the words of another reviewer) "micro-agressions", although some of them are not so minor. Interestingly, she seems to show most contempt for Gabo, the one member of the family who knows his relatives are treating her badly, but can't quite bring himself to do anything about it. There's a realistic, and horrifying believable, feel to this film; part of it's secret is that it's protagonist is not just a victim, but while she is in some senses admirable for how she has to deal with her situation, she is in no senses a superwoman: this is not a film with a celebratory air. It's all the better for it, a film to make one think about one's own prejudices and the difficult journeys we all must make through life, some harder than others.

The movie relies heavily on the performance of Daniela Vega (Marina) and thankfully she give it, all because the movie centered about her sad and depressing situation and sometimes it's very difficult to watch and how other people reacts to her, the performance was good and it's truly a star-making performance. What's didn't make it fantastic movie is the script because ther is alot of weird things happened like the seeing ghosts and weird visions and a side plot that didn't go anywhere unfortunately, a very confusing thing happened let me just refer to it "Transphobic Car Ride". Unfortunately the movie is little bit long, the pacing is little bit weak and don't have the rewatchability factor. In the end A Fantastic Women put the light on a community that deserves more movies to see their personal journeys and lives.

The transgender heroine is a wonderfully complex, defiant and passionate character. One who keeps her poise and dignity in the most trying of circumstances.

She endures every kind of humiliation imaginable. And regardless of the story's sexual politics, Marina is the type of heroine that any audience will root for. Lelio conveys her courage and endurance to have her right to mourn for the man she loved. And to express her own independence.

It's hard to even talk about LGBT matters in a country like Chile, so is exactly right there the significance of Sebastian Lelio's work. The characterizations are so well performed by the actors and actresses, that you can feel the anger and frustration of Marina, the love that Orlando feels for her, the everyday struggle of Marina in a society that rejects her sexuality, the hate from Orlando's family, etc.

Is necessary a movie like this, is necessary a more open-mind society, is necessary to stop discrimination, is necessary to stop the hate.

A fantastic woman, is ready to show the audience that there is no differences between a transgender person and a heterosexual one, the strong main character of Marina, will make you feel her never-ending fight to gain some respect, and how bad we, as society, make her feel.

Thanks to Sebastian Lelio for bring this taboo to the light. Excellent work.

This is really, really good.

(opens a can of wasps)I'm always struck by the sky-high ratings on IMDb for bad LGBT movies, and wonder if it's attributable to a) the comparative paucity of these films, meaning that we should celebrate those we get, regardless of their technical or artistic deficiencies (the extension, I suppose, is the tribalistic mindset this engenders, in which you can't judge them as bad films, as they're not just films); b) my lack of insight into what these films should be doing in relation to their audience and LGBT issues in 2017.(/can of wasps)

Anyway, no such ruminations necessary on this one, it's bloody brilliant: a dazzling, poetic, sometimes dream-like Chilean film about a trans woman (Daniela Vega) trying to hold it together – and reach some point of resolution – after the death of her boyfriend. I should mention that his family aren't helping.

Vega has the most fascinating face and the camera makes the most of it, not least in a dazzling nightclub sequence that moves from pain to sensuality to a fantasy dance number, but there's such depth to her characterisation too, and the film's refusal to give her easy, sassy victories is uniquely satisfying, grappling profoundly and humanely with issues that are both specific and universal.

The effect is of a Dardennes story adapted by Almodovar, but I haven't seen anyone like Vega before. I'm not sure she can really sing classical (the best use of 'Ombra mai fu' is now and forever in Humphrey Jennings' seismic short film, Spare Time, Handel fans), but the rest of the music's a treat, with British composer Matthew Herbert delivering an audial dreamscape that like the script, photography and performances serves to conjure a very particular mood.