La mujer de los perros

Crítica de Pablo Suárez - Buenos Aires Herald

Remember Agnes Varda's Vagabond? That 1985 French drama, one of Varda's best, told the story of a woman about whom little or nothing could be known.
With a documentary edge to it, Varda built a series of flashbacks to some given days in the last months of a vagabond girl.

Although many people spoke to the young woman, gave her food, drink and cigarettes, sheltered her and even had sex with her, truth is none of them could say they actually knew her. The young woman in question was played by Sandrine Bonnaire, who delivered a striking performance.
You can surely say that an equally striking performance is that of seasoned Argentine thespian Verónica Llinás in La mujer de los perros, directed by herself and Laura Citarella, and a proud winner of the Best Actress Award at this year's BAFICI's international competition.
Like Bonnaire, Llinás also draws a very convincing portrayal of a vagabond with a hermetic personality. The vagabond shows no feelings whatsoever, follows an erratic routine in her everyday life and goes here and there with a bunch of dogs as her sole company.

Unlike Varda's character, the vagabond dog lady in Llinás’ and Citarella’s film doesn't utter a single word throughout the entire movie. But Llinás doesn’t need words to flesh up such an unusual character for she’s an accomplished actress who has mastered the art of facial expression and body language.

Even if you don’t have any way to actually know what her character is thinking or planning to do, you still have a very concrete feeling that something is going on both in her head and in her soul.

Vagabond and La mujer de los perros have different queries in mind and inhabit different worlds, but they certainly share certain existential concerns and a desire to transcend their nominal stories.

The problem with the Argentine feature is that it lacks the constant pathos and profundity of the French one. There's no doubt that La mujer de los perros is technically well-crafted and its tone is appropriately meditative, but for the most part it’s merely descriptive without being insightful. It shows lots of things, but it doesn’t say much about them.

It may be argued that the directors wanted viewers to simply observe and reflect on the path the dog lady walks along but, even so, the near total absence of significant drama — other than what you see at first sight — turns Llinás’ and Citarella’s film into a somewhat tedious exercise in style. Granted, there are some special moments with a weight of their own, but for the most part La mujer de los perros is a quasi-mechanic film that doesn't prompt much analysis and feels too aloof to elicit an emotional response. It wouldn't be surprising to see that, after scratching the surface, there's not that much to be found.

Production notes:
La mujer de los perros (Dog Lady). Directed by Laura Citarella, Verónica Llinás. With Verónica Llinás, Juliana Muras, Germán de Silva, Juana Zalazar. Original story: Verónica and Mariano Llinás. Cinematography: Soledad Rodriguez. Art direction: Laura and Florencia Caligiuri. Costumes: Carolina Sosa Loyola. Editing: Ignacio Masllorens. Sound: Marcos Canosa. Music: Juana Molina. Produced by El Pampero Cine. Running time: 98 minutes. Limited release: Sala Lugones Teatro San Martín, from Thursday 3 to Wednesday 9 at 230pm, 5pm, 7.30pm and 10pm.