Today, it is widely accepted that Argentinean Cinema is one of the most vibrant and creative in Latin America. Every year, a handful of Argentinean films run the gauntlet of film festivals all over the world, winning prizes and giving the critics much to talk about. Recently, titles like Juan José Campanella's El Hijo de la Novia, Fabian Bielinski's Nine Queens (Nueve Reinas) or Valentin have proved to be genuine hits, both at the box office and with the critics. Furthermore, this demonstrates that despite the terrible crisis that has hit the Argentinean economy, cinematic production has remained very healthy.  

It was this so-called resurgence of Argentinean cinema that justified the organizers of the 48th London Film Festival hosting a forum to discuss the arrival of this "new wave" - one more and certainly not the last - along with a strong representation consisting of four films and one documentary.

Curiously, some Argentinean directors do not believe that there has been a resurgence, their opinion is that Argentina has always produced quality cinema. For example, Daniel Burman, director of the film Lost Embrace (El abrazo partido) presented at the festival, flatly commented "to say that there is a new wave in Argentinean cinema makes no sense, it is like saying that there has been a new generation of Swiss watchmakers".

One of the festival's most awaited Argentinean films was La Niña Santa by Lucrecia Martel who has already surprised critics with her first film La Ciénaga. La Niña Santa celebrated its world debut at last year's Cannes film festival, which, it would seem, reaffirmed Martel as a success story of Latin American cinema. Another aspect that draws attention to this film is that it was produced by the double act of Agustín and Pedro Almodóvar - a factor that makes it an instant hit, even before it has been seen. It is not difficult to understand that what attracted Almodóvar to produce La Niña Santa was its curious thematic similarity to Bad Education (La Mala Educación).

It is a fact that the majority of specialist critics has not spared praise for Lucrecia Martel. Her film is certainly well presented in terms of what an "art film" should be. In crude terms, these films are based upon either an interesting or mundane theme, but one that is told in an unusual way; characters that are either confused, psychotic or ambivalent or possess all three of these traits, one each day for every one of them. An unconventional visual language, perhaps postmodern, strange shots or composition, a basic premise but one greased with philosophical - Freudian - surrealist questions and an Aristotle-esque conflict that does not conclude or, if it does, does so prematurely. All of these elements mixed well together, almost always produce an excellent reel of more than two hours long that astounds any festival

Martel undoubtedly knows the tricks involved in this kind of cinema; it is a cinema that tends to be invited to festivals and she knows how to efficiently exploit those devices- this is a significant virtue of hers. But being aware of these strategies does not necessarily mean that an excellent director makes a good film...at least not all the time.

  In one sense, Martel's film is founded on deep, wise interpretations of morality, religion and mysticism, familiar intimacy - that can spread to incest - and sexuality, or its absence. As we can see, each of these complex themes, all placed together at the same time, already give the appearance of being fairly ambitious. Martel realizes her desire to analyze some of these topics from her own viewpoint, using her own knowledge. Those who write the best ask themselves if they are truly doing so, or instead merely reproducing these topics in some narrative contraption whilst, at the same time, demanding that we believe their expositions to be both original and revelatory. Suffice it to say that this intention is not enough, even if the successes are.

Moving on to the film's formal elements, it would be unjust not to mention Martel's visual talents. Beyond are those scenes with their profound close-ups that assume a look at the intimacy of the characters so one can almost see them in their absolute reality thus accentuating the oppressive atmosphere of the hotel. This effect is indeed a great success.

On the other hand, the scenes in the swimming pool are more interesting; they reflect a type of visual slander. At one moment, her exquisite compositions, the positioning of her characters and the brilliant lighting effects on set - deliberate or otherwise - confer a brilliant stillness upon these scenes, almost revealing traces of 15th Century Italian pictorial language, especially that of Piero della Francesca and Andrea Mantenga. It is worth mentioning that these visual qualities are not seen every day.

Finally, one could conclude that the recurrent and vivid complexity seen in La Niña Santa is the film's weak point. The preconceptions that Martel tries to revise are fairly thought-provoking, but her questions become too precise and calculated. It is here when the film feels heavy and monotone. If its dénouement is predictable it is because it seems that we have taken part in a mental chess game; so the decisive moment cannot be avoided, it is inevitable. Amalia's mission is to give the Jaque to doctor Jano, and with that, it is complete, though a little chance could have made La Niña Santa a more thrilling ride.

"La Niña Santa" now on London's cinemas:  

Artificial Eye (see cinemas information)

View trailer: La Nación online

Artificial Eye (see cinemas information)