HYDERABAD : It is an undeniable fact that films can be a most inviting peek into other countries, cultures, languages, and civilisations. Having little familiarity with Peruvian cinema or the country itself, Klaudia Reynicke’s Reinas (Queens) opened an enlightening and affecting window for me on the place and its people at a critical moment in the history of the nation.
Politics forms a vital backdrop for the coming-of-age tale of two young sisters—Lucia (Abril Gjurinovic) and Aurora (Luana Vega). It is 1992, the time of President Alberto Fujimori’s administration, tainted by human rights violations, insane inflation, social tension, civil unrest, violent protests and armed insurgency. Set in summertime in the capital Lima, in the thick of this ongoing political, social and economic turmoil, Reinas is about the corresponding emotional upheavals Lucia and Aurora face. The sisters, along with their mother, Elena (Jimena Lindo), like many others in Peru at that time, decide to flee the uncertainties of the homeland to seek a better life in the USA. However, Elena needs a travel consent from her estranged husband Carlos (Gonzalo Molina) or a custody order for their daughters. Meanwhile, mother and daughters must also shift to Tita’s (grandmother) home, ostensibly haunted by the ghost of a grandaunt who died of heartbreak.
Reynicke is subtle and sensitive in presenting the repercussions of the imminent departure on the siblings’ last few days at home. The fears and hopes for what may come and the anguish of having to leave the extended family, friends and budding romance behind are portrayed with care and finesse. Growing up for them in this scenario is about getting to know and accept that you win some and you lose some. It’s about being aware of their own relative privileges and the acknowledgement that things are worse for others. Life, ultimately, is all about making the most of what gets thrown your way.
However, the overriding aspect of the film is that of the reconnection with the father they barely seem to know. Their initial curiosity, scepticism, struggles and gradual arrival at an understanding of sorts for each other reminded me a lot of Charlotte Regan’s Scrapper. Carlos is quite an enigma, to the girls, the family and the audience. A creative artiste or a compulsive liar, a drifter or a good man, the jury might be out on who Carlos truly is but what is undeniable is that he is totally out of place with both the relatives at large and his dear chicas. And he must cover a lot of ground in the few days on hand that he has with them. A misfit who must bridge the distance, fill the many voids and get to belong, yet set them free.
Reynicke is deft in presenting the changing contours of the larger family dynamic. An able, understated ensemble helps her in making it feel like a real family on screen. One whose predicaments and challenges resonate and are universally empathetic. Gjurinovic, in particular, is the show stealer as the wise beyond her years but vulnerable Lucia. Reynicke is equally adept in evoking the period details and bringing alive a Lima amid bombings, blackouts and curfews, rising prices, food shortages, hoarding and enforced bartering of goods. I was struck by how, ironically, the opposite held true for India in the same period of the early 90s, the time of liberalisation, reforms and economic growth.
Reinas is an affecting human documentation, a nostalgic love letter for home as well as a persuasive and provoking historical record. All that we look for in good cinema.
Cinema Without Borders
In this weekly column, the writer explores the non-Indian films that are making the right noises across the globe. This week, we talk about Klaudia Reynicke’s Reinas