In 1987 New York, LGBTQ ball fixture Blanca starts her own house, soon becoming mother to a gifted dancer and a sex worker in love with a yuppie client.
Pose is aspirational and celebratory -- and in pursuit of that, a little anachronistic, importing to the New York of 30 years ago all the trans commitment of today. Never mind. This is, after all a study in the lives of the saints, set to disco. – Dave Sexton, London Evening Standard
In the future, an outbreak of canine flu leads the mayor of a Japanese city to banish all dogs to an island that's a garbage dump. The outcasts must soon embark on an epic journey when a 12-year-old boy arrives on the island to find his beloved pet.
The movie is overwhelming, in the very best sense: the pointillistic profusion of the movie’s visual details -- décor, action, and the gestures of the characters (all of which are puppets, deftly manipulated, frame by frame) -- and, for that matter, its drolly nuanced sound mix, make a big-screen viewing a prime necessity.
Oscar-winning director Alfonso Cuarón delivers a vivid, emotional portrait of domestic life set against Mexico's political turmoil of the 1970s.
Roma was not made to be seen small, and its awards-season accolades have made for a steep rise in expectations among viewers unprepared to let such gray-toned beauty and ambiguous feelings arrive through the leisurely, episodic means employed by writer-director Alfonso Charon, drawing on his own Mexico City childhood of the 1970s. Race, class, gender roles, and consuming cinephilia share equal billing here. But you have to lean in to get it.