Mubi Monday: Ema (2019)

Pablo Larraín is a director well worth seeking out, especially if you're only familiar with him because of the movie Jackie (which is good, but actually not up there with his best work). He has a habit of being able to take dark material and display it in a way that doesn't skirt around any central issues, but also manages to avoid seeming like a wallow in complete misery.

Ema is about a couple (Ema, played by Mariana Di Girolamo, and Gastón, played by Gael García Bernal) who find their relationship crumbling after they make the difficult decision to return the child that they adopted. They have to deal with the way other people now view them, as well as how their opinions of one another may have changed. Because, let's face it, what kind of person gives up and returns an adopted child?

As things start to develop, Ema and Gastón are shown to be struggling in figuring out their best way of moving forward. The former ends up leaning hard into a lifestyle of sexual freedom, encouraging Gastón to take a new partner, and you get the feeling that she processes the judgement of others by deciding not to care about what they think, eventually. There is, however, a point to her sexual journey, and it eventually becomes clear that Ema is trying to make things better, albeit in an odd way that is clear only to herself.

Larraín does a superb job, working from the script by Guillermo Calderón (who has worked with him before, over the past few years) and Alejandro Moreno, and he once again knows how to mix in some wonderful visuals, flawless central performances, and hints to the bigger picture without everything being revealed until the very last scenes.

Whether engaging in some energetic sex, some energetic dancing, or just looking disdainfully at others who are trying to make her feel ashamed, Di Girolamo is brilliant, and very watchable, in her role. She is the focus of almost every scene, and lifts the film with her presence. Bernal is as strong as ever in his main supporting role, especially in the scenes that show him releasing his barely-suppressed resentment.

Although it looks at the connection between adopted child and adopted parents, rather than biological family members, Ema feels as discomforting as We Need To Talk About Kevin in the way it explores a lack of automatic affection. It almost seems taboo, yet deserves the time and treatment given to it here. Despite the way in which things are worked out, the message of finding a way to reach a child, finding a way to bring people together and heal some fresh wounds, there's a surprisingly positive core buried beneath the anger, frustration, and lust.

8/10