‘Romería’ Review: Carla Simón Dives Deep Into Painful Family History in an Act of Reclamation That’s Equal Parts Shimmering and Meandering

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Three years after being awarded first place in Berlin for her moving homage to her family’s peach farmer lineage, “Alcarràs“, Carla Simón delves into a narrative closer to her personal history, serving as a sequel of sorts to her initial work, “Summer 1993“. The 2018 film depicted the transformative phase in the life of a six-year-old girl – a fictionalized portrayal of the director herself – who was sent to live with her uncle’s family in rural Catalonia following the deaths of both her parents from AIDS. In her third film, “Romería“, Simón focuses on a character that mirrors aspects of her own life, a young filmmaker graduated from high school, who embarks on a journey to encounter her late father’s family.

Although initially intended to fulfill bureaucratic obligations related to a film school scholarship, her journey transforms into an unearthing of the parents she was too young to remember, their stories shrouded in mystery, disgrace, and the hazy perspective of time. This exploration is viewed through the intriguing lens of esteemed French cinematographer Hélène Louvart (known for works like Never Rarely Sometimes Always, The Lost Daughter, and La Chimera), whose work maintains its allure, despite moments in Simón’s storytelling that appear directionless.

Instead of primarily using a non-professional cast as in the film Alcarràs, the director has opted for more experienced actors for this project, but has faithfully handed over the pivotal role of Marina to newcomer Llúcia Garcia. She was an impressive find and lacked substantial acting experience prior to being chosen following a thorough casting process.

When Marina visits the records office to acquire a copy of her father’s death certificate for her scholarship application, she discovers it fails to mention any children. In order to have her name included, she must secure notarized signatures from her unmet paternal grandparents who reside across the country. Equipped with her video camera, Marina embarks on a journey in 2004, traveling from Barcelona to the Atlantic coast where her family members dwell, primarily around the seaport city of Vigo in Galicia.

It’s worth noting that the place where Marina visited was once a playground for her biological parents prior to her birth. The reason behind Marina’s trip becomes clear in the movie’s title, as it translates to “pilgrimage” in Spanish.

Upon her arrival, she is greeted warmly by her friendly Uncle Tristán Ulloa. Despite not always aligning with what she was told as a child, he proves to be one of her most communicative relatives. There’s also a lively group of cousins who join her for swims from their uncle’s sailboat. These outings result in stunning photographs of bodies gracefully moving through the water above coral reefs surrounding the Cíes Islands.

Marina’s videos of the seashore are interspersed with occasional voiceovers from her mother’s diary entries from the 1980s, and chapter titles that might seem a bit ordinary. (These sections were derived from letters that Simon’s mother wrote to her friends during her journeys.) However, every distant family member Marina encounters stirs up hazy recollections of her parents, either personal or borrowed from others. Yet, the chronology of where they resided at different stages in their relationship remains unclear. There’s even some debate about Marina’s exact birthplace.

Whenever Marina encounters her grandparents, she’s promptly stopped from discussing her biological parents. Her grandmother, Marina Troncoso, is an unfriendly snob who prefers getting manicures and pedicures or maintaining her pool free of leaves, rather than spending time getting to know her granddaughter. This eventually leads to a small but satisfying act of defiance from Marina.

It appears that José Ángel Egido, Marina’s grandfather, is generally friendlier, yet Marina feels upset upon discovering he gave Alfonso, her father, a considerable amount of money as a motivator to halt his relationship with Marina’s mother. This revelation sparks more probing questions from Marina. She becomes even more troubled when she uncovers that her parents had been using and potentially dealing with heroin. The situation worsens for Marina when she learns the family kept Alfonso hidden when he was ill, denying him any visitors during his time of need.

The embarrassment surrounding drug issues and AIDS causes Alfonso’s grandparents to become defensive when asked about him, particularly noticeable when his grandfather assumes a Mafia boss-like posture while family members pay their respects. When it’s Marina’s turn, he gives her an envelope filled with a large amount of money, supposedly for her film school costs but also as a subtle way to discourage further inquiries about Alfonso.

The conversation tends to wander off-topic, and truthfully, it can be quite tedious – somewhat like a Saura family portrait set along the coast, minus the political undertones and distinct character development to make the multitude of relatives intriguing. There’s an underlying flirtation and mutual interest between Marina and her older cousin Nuno (popularly known as Mitch), but it mostly hints at possibilities rather than a concrete development.

As Marina interacts with her parents, the situations become increasingly captivating. Memories and images of them start forming in her mind. Initially, she sees them relaxing on deck chairs on a sunlit terrace, almost like a ghostly apparition. To introduce themselves, they inform her, “We’re not deceased; they simply kept us hidden.” In her imagination, she visualizes them frolicking nude along the rocky shoreline, entwined in the seaweed or lying on the sand together. Alternatively, she imagines them lounging on a boat, watching dolphins swim by.

Stepping away from Simón’s usual realistic style, I find myself immersed in a whimsical sequence where Marina and Nuno glide into a dreamy nightclub, swaying to the rhythm of Spanish pop while under the influence. This transition triggers a series of vivid images for Marina, showing her parents, both sensual yet tainted with sorrow, seemingly addicted and yearning for escape. Although these visions are unsettling, they offer Marina a connection to the parents she barely knew during her childhood. It was particularly effective to see Garcia portraying Marina’s mother in a strikingly different light.

The swift events leading up to Marina having the authority to decide the phrasing on her father’s revised death certificate, rather than her grandparents, are unclear due to their hastiness. However, given that this process strengthened Marina’s bond with two of the most significant individuals in her life, it proves satisfactory as a concluding phase of her journey.

The film titled “Romería” showcases a visually poetic, yet slightly less clear narrative than the director’s previous works. It seems unusual for the main competition at Cannes as its deep dive into family history and enigma might have resonated more effectively in the diverse Un Certain Regard sidebar.

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2025-05-25 03:55