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A NETFLIX ORIGINAL DOCUMENTARY
Action!
Hurry up! Move!
Move!
The fire is spreading. Hurry!
Now, Poncho!
I think that childhood shapes your life.
I've had a close relationship with cinema since I was very young.
I think cinema is also tied to a feeling of loneliness,
so cinema and loneliness go hand in hand in a way.
The film came together over a period of many years
in different ways.
To be honest, I don't know when Roma began
and when it was just part of the process of remembering.
There was no screenplay at first. I wasn't going to write one.
I wanted to start by recreating the sensory part of it.
I had hundreds of notes about my memories.
Memories that were not just anecdotes and events,
but also small details.
I do a lot of research for my films.
For Children of Men, I did extensive research
into the work of many scholars
who had predicted certain trends for the 21st century.
With Gravity, I focused
on the workings of movement in zero gravity.
But this was all about memory.
My work with the art department, with Eugenio and Barbara,
was never about lists.
It had a lot more to do with abstractions.
They used their own particular memories
to create an interpretation of what I had asked for.
We started having a much more open, extensive dialogue,
than what was merely on a piece of paper.
Those are my comments about this.
We couldn't find the tiles we needed anywhere.
It was hard to find the exact ones since I was only describing them.
Suddenly, while we're looking at locations,
we're in a location that doesn't work, in a bathroom,
but with the exact tiles we needed.
So we came across the tiles, and once I'd seen them,
it threw open so many doors in my memory and I began to remember other details.
It starts being a matter of...
opening doors, and opening doors, and opening doors.
That was the film for me.
Taking as many details I could find in my memory,
and capturing them.
In order to recreate the house, we needed the right furniture.
My family's furniture was spread around Colima, Tijuana...
Some was in Veracruz.
So, we had to start collecting it,
asking family members to let us borrow furniture.
I think we got 70-80% of the actual furniture.
Identical reproductions were made of the ones we didn't get,
which Eugenio took care of.
I had some costume ideas based on my memories,
but it was crucial to check them against photos of the streets,
to see how the clothes I remembered matched the clothes of the time.
Diving into my memory without a screenplay
and with a narrative outline that was very loose,
meant that whatever was real about this film
would be the result of those sensations.
The same mess, but everywhere.
One more thing, the fridge mess.
The fridge needs to be full of bags, parcels, etc.
It should be impossible to find anything in there.
-Aluminum foil and... -Yes.
All kinds of Tupperware.
-Were those around? -Yeah.
All right, then lots of those.
I wanted to be sure that I as I put together a scene,
I'd get a vivid feeling about the time and space
and even the smells from my memories.
-It looks like a pianola, but I like it. -It has a heavy presence.
Exactly, that's right.
That's so cool.
-Is it right in the middle? -In the middle of this.
-Of the cube. -And this as well.
My work on previous screenplays has been very focused on the narrative.
My brother Carlos and I call it "narrative plumbing."
Which is the structure of the story, how information flows,
and how the dramatic weight is split among the characters.
There was none of that here.
We first decided what moments to capture,
and then the story grew around those moments.
That's what's beautiful.
The story emerges from your relationship with what's happening,
with the filmic event itself.
Our other shot, the next shot, is right here.
We need some paint, because it looks very dark.
Maybe we should open this a little bit...
These windows need to be open.
It was a process of remembering, and I suddenly started taking notes.
The character of Cleo is based on Libo, Liboria.
I asked her endless questions every day for weeks on end,
digging in her memory.
I kept a very precise logbook on her daily routine.
Not just her activities, but also the tiniest details.
Like how she sat on the bed after she woke up.
What did she do first? What was the first thing she saw?
Then what would she do? Where would she go?
When she made breakfast, what did she make first?
She was totally on board and found it very interesting.
In Y Tu Mamá También,
the person who plays Tenoch's nanny is none other than Libo.
I cast her in that role.
Hello? One moment, please.
It's for you.
I was interested in the nanny's story
because Libo and I have had many conversations.
For example, about her childhood in Tepelmeme, Oaxaca.
Tenoch thought he had never been to Tepelmeme,
the hometown of Leodegaria Victoria,
Leo, his nanny, who moved to Mexico City when she was 13.
She grew up with many limitations.
As a kid, I was shocked by her descriptions
of feeling cold or hungry, for example.
As a kid from a middle-class background,
those things seemed abstract, since I was so far removed from them.
When we began the casting process,
we saw thousands of women,
and I didn't care if they were professional actors or not.
I was looking for the right person.
We were constrained in that sense,
because for one thing they had to look just like the actual people,
both in terms of the photographs we had, and what I could remember.
They had to embody the essence of those characters.
And on top of that, they had to be able to act.
I dropped the white vase.
Really?
While I was cleaning, I dropped it.
It broke.
I wanted these people to be who they are.
I didn't want someone to play an indigenous woman.
Rather, I wanted to work with an indigenous woman
and for her to bring in things that I didn't know about.
The mystery of another person one can't ever fathom.
Then he gave me a letter.
But this letter was part of a bunch of letters,
and they all slipped out of his hands and fell to the ground.
And I can recognize Moisés's crooked handwriting.
So I picked up the letter and opened it.
I started having interviews with some candidates.
One of them said she could speak Mixtec,
that she even spoke Mixtec better than Spanish.
We had this short scene, and I said, "What if we try doing it in Mixtec?"
Then immediately, it all made sense to me,
because if we're looking at the disparity that exists in our country
between class and ethnic group,
the effect is even more pronounced when an ethnic group speaks
several indigenous languages other than Spanish.
And yes, it was written by Moisés.
"I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you," he'd say.
-Poor thing. -Him? No way.
I liked the fact that they could speak to each other
in a language that the rest of the family couldn't understand.
They were able to share private moments while speaking their native tongue.
He'd write the same love letter to all the girls.
No way.
That bastard sent the same letter to every girl.
-What? I can't believe it. -He did!
I already raised this, so I need to fix it.
It all went up when she sat down.
One, two, three.
There is also a mostly symbolic element.
The film begins with a shot of the ground,
and ends on a shot of the sky.
But when we show the ground, you see a reflection of the sky.
The shot will begin here, which will be dry.
She is going to use the hose and buckets of water,
to rinse the courtyard.
-Should I take a bucket and pour it out? -Yes, good idea.
Like a curtain falling evenly across the frame.
That reflection starts to become much more alive
and more real than the ground, which symbolizes reality.
On the other hand, it's part of my memories of Mexico.
Something that's still present today: the planes flying overhead.
That sound is closely tied to life in Mexico City.
The presence of other places,
suggested by an object flying overhead, which doesn't belong in the sky.
It's a piece of metal.
Here's the thing.
You have to let the soap suds and dirty water enter the frame,
then wait for the next wave of even darker water.
When the two tones of soap suds come together, it looks lovely.
Quote unquote lovely.
And then it explodes.
The actors were never given the script.
When Cleo comes back...
They didn't know what was going to happen.
That's what we're doing next.
So, there you go. You guys, I'll explain over there.
I had told each actor
things that only they knew.
Once we had blocked a scene, which is always necessary
because we need a camera in there too,
I limited rehearsals, so as not to waste good moments.
Basically, we rehearsed as we shot.
Why are we doing just this part so many times?
You know how in movies they use one shot, then a different shot?
That's what we're doing.
We already got it from that side,
so now we're doing this side.
No two takes were alike because after each one
I'd talk to a kid, for example, and ask him to drop his fork.
Then I'd tell another kid, "You're sick of his clumsiness.
If he drops his fork, make a fuss about it."
I'll start because I tell the joke.
That was much harder on the actors than the non-actors.
The way it affected Marina, a professional actress,
is that the scene immediately became chaotic.
They would be saying their lines, but the fork would get dropped,
and they would stop to fight.
But eventually they naturally picked up where they had left off.
She said it's the hardest thing she's ever done.
She had to let go, even though she's a trained actress.
Meanwhile, the others were just there.
The difficult thing with children is erasing their cultural references
and trying to convey to them what they have to say.
I didn't want to impose myself on the essence of who they were.
I wanted them to give me
that mysterious thing you can't create or manufacture:
the mystery of another person's individuality.
-Dad is leaving tomorrow. -Is tomorrow Friday in the film?
-Is tomorrow...? -Friday?
Exactly. How did you know?
Because we said, "He's leaving Friday."
No, wait, what am I saying? He's not leaving tomorrow.
He's not leaving tomorrow, he's leaving on Friday.
-He's here early. -Cleo said something.
Yeah, Cleo said he was leaving tomorrow.
-It was Adela. -Adela said it.
She told Cleo he was leaving tomorrow.
She did, but her back was turned, so that's a good thing.
But did she say it already?
Yes, but I can fix it later since we can't see her face.
Thank you very much.
-Silence. -And action.
-Someone call the dog. -Dad is home early.
Cut.
We had to pick between two movie theaters, the Metropolitan and the Alameda.
The Alameda had been renovated, so we chose the Metropolitan.
Those were the ones Libo used to go to on Sundays.
She told me she would always go to her hometown movie theater
regardless of what movie they were showing.
She enjoyed them anyway.
Let's use the nylon cord.
With the extras, it wasn't as easy as saying, "We need 500."
Rather, we had a number of extras, and from that group,
we decided who would be in cars, on the sidewalk.
We had to decide how many would go where.
Apart from that, we had to do a demographic analysis.
Not just how many men and how many women
but also how many from each social class.
And for each social class, how many from each ethnicity.
These will be indigenous, these will be mestizos,
and these will be white Mexicans, you know?
It was a very detailed process, but once we had that,
they started presenting the options.
We had huge pieces of paper
with all the different faces arranged according to those demographics.
That's how I chose them.
Not by seeing the actors in person,
but I chose each one from the photographs.
For each photograph, we chose a specific costume,
their particular hairstyle or beard,
or even the accessories they would wear.
Even for extras that were far in the distance.
What's your hawker's cry?
No, that's not right.
"Come get your Herbie toy."
"Come get your toy car from The Love Bug."
-Let's hear your street cry. -Meringues!
-Action, background! -Action!
It can still go a little lower.
For the first time ever, I decided to strip myself of references.
References from other movies. I didn't allow myself a single one.
Eugenio loved a particular frame, but I had to discard it.
-Eugenio? -I'm here, I was looking for you.
-What is it? -Look into the frame, go low.
Those two logs on the right are blocking the water.
All right, let's see.
See what I mean?
I mean, it was beautiful, but it wasn't mine.
It felt like a reference, so I didn't want it.
So, we reframed the shot.
Eugenio preferred the other one,
and I agreed it was better, but this one was true.
It wasn't a reference to something else.
This goes here.
Are you ready? Bring the big stone.
Put it over here, leaning against it.
Setting up the scenes was crucial for me.
I didn't want to get perfect, ideal timing.
I wanted the actors to give me the real timing of real life.
-She went to get her sweater. -Yeah, it's okay.
This is the same day. You came here later.
It's a picnic, and the men will be shooting guns.
Adult men, I mean.
The older kids will be here, playing football.
-Now, the younger kids-- -Me?
Yes, like you and Rodrigo.
They'll come running from the forest. But I'll give you positions.
So you're here.
You're here and you're going to walk over there.
-Thanks. -Okay.
They go with that group.
You two, follow me.
The ladies will sit here. Hello, you.
-Hello. -Can you walk in those shoes?
-Yeah. -Great.
Everyone is doing their thing, and the adults are already drunk.
I mean...
No point in hiding the truth from these young ladies.
So we have to find...
We can clean this up a bit if you need to walk.
Find a good action.
When you do a long take, you don't create one interpretation
and then repeat it
in the exact same way in a different take,
to try to keep continuity and then do back-up shots.
That way, you get trapped in that first interpretation.
Here, we kept changing it. We kept discovering new things.
Wait, I figured it out. Let's get you to walk across.
When you get up to shoot, stand on that side of the chair.
Now, you have to walk all the way here.
This is where you yell at Cleo to keep an eye on the kids.
You just used an expression that didn't exist back then.
-"Careful, Pepe." -"Careful." That's right.
Ready? Let's try it again.
-So what? Women don't shoot? -No, no, no.
We had often gotten a really good take...
Almost perfect. Try going slower, but this one was great.
...and yet we did 62 more takes of a six-minute shot.
Carlos, walk across faster. Reach your mark sooner.
Everyone else did great.
Eduardo, don't stay still.
-Sorry. -Go that way.
Anya, try to reach Lola much faster.
Alejandro, walk slower to your mark. You're just waiting here.
Yeah, sorry.
Let's do it.
What we wanted to capture was a moment of truth.
There was a cake in Visconti's Ludwig,
and he demanded they use the original recipe.
He had the option of using a fake, decorated cake,
but he insisted on using the original recipe, you know?
That's something the audience won't even notice.
I used to think that was excessive,
a stubborn whim.
But I found that getting those details right
can be liberating.
You peel away those elements
to try to capture the invisible.
Something intangible.
There was a moment that encapsulates this reality.
I was adamant about shooting on the street where I grew up.
The very same street, which Eugenio recreated to match the period,
since the facades had changed along with the city.
Why there? Because that's where the essence of everything lies.
Time had moved on, but not the space. Time can't be brought back.
Our perception of space lingers longer than time itself.
Time immediately fades away.
I guess you could say I was being stubborn.
I could have filmed it on another street. Plus, who could tell the difference?
But some intrinsic part of it made it all the more important.
The crew witnessed my crisis.
I think this movie triggered
a serious inner crisis in me.
It pulled on emotional threads I didn't know were there.
I'm shooting a scene,
and I'm in a foul mood.
Such a foul mood, in fact,
that I decided to take a break and go for a walk.
As I was walking, I asked myself, "Why are you so angry?
You've been gifted the opportunity to recreate your childhood street...
meticulously.
With the exact cars that were parked there at the time.
With extras who look identical to your old neighbors.
I have this sandbox I can play with.
I have this wonderful opportunity."
Besides, I had my own schedule and full control of the shoot,
with no other pressure apart from what I put on myself.
I had to calm down.
Besides, I told myself,
"The crew's work is great. They aren't screwing up.
You have no reason to be angry."
So, I went back to shoot the scene,
which we weren't quite getting,
and I told the actor, "You feel wholly suffocated.
Have you ever felt that way?" He said yes.
"But, emotionally suffocated?"
He told me a personal story, and I said, "Good, use that."
I told him, "As you get in the car, you feel less suffocated.
You drive away and breathe easy for the first time in years."
The scene turned out great, and I realized I'd just shot the scene
where my father abandoned my family.
For the first time, I wasn't judging it from the outside,
but rather trying to understand what the man had felt.
I'm not morally justifying what he did or how he did it,
but I found I did understand his feelings.
It was something I had never appreciated before.
I was 55 years old when we filmed that scene.
I'd never considered that point of view within that situation.
But as a director, when you're making a movie,
you can't pass judgment on your characters.
You simply try to understand their motivations and relationships.
I was giving stage directions to a character I'd judged before.
Evidently, my anger and my foul mood weren't the result
of the dynamics on set that day,
but rather, the dynamics of what I was recreating.
At some point, I realized how crazy it was
that I was in my childhood home, with a family identical to mine,
dressed just like them, and behaving exactly like them.
It was a little weird for me, to say the least.
This time it really is inside.
You can tell the difference.
Now, this is what I call rain.
-Cut! -Cut the water.
Once we began work on the film, it started growing.
I'd say it grew to about three times its size.
It grew in size, ambition. Everything.
I had this story in my memory, and in your memory everything is smaller.
Besides, you're sure you'll find those places you remember.
But when you get there reality sets in, the logistics get crazy,
and you have to completely transform certain places.
In order to shoot a scene where a woman walks through the city,
all the cars and pedestrians have to fit the period.
Everything has to be recreated.
We fully recreated the corner of Baja California and Insurgentes.
INSURGENTES AVENUE CROSSING
That's where we shot the scene of her crossing the avenue.
Insurgentes has changed so much that we couldn't do it there.
So, I became obsessed with reproducing it to a tee.
With the same bridal store,
the same clothing shops, and the same diners.
An identical reproduction, so we could stop worrying about it.
Then we could let time flow in that filmic moment.
It was also a project where I was the only one who knew the story,
and how the locations should feel.
I'm the only one who knows my own memories.
We need to extend this towards this side.
I've always been very closely involved with the cinematography of my films.
Just like before the sunset, it was a very soft light.
That means spending much longer on that side of it.
It forced me to sit by the camera and look at the shot,
which triggered memories
that added new details to the scene we were about to shoot.
I had to be extremely close to the cinematography.
Let's make it softer.
Also, I knew where the camera should be,
and the kind of lighting and atmosphere I needed.
In all my films, I've always done long takes.
Here, my decision to use them was much more conscious and precise.
Hurry, we have no ND filter. That's really scary.
-Ready. -Hurry.
When you have a long take from a wide angle,
you're prioritizing neither the character
nor the surroundings.
Context and character have the same weight.
In fact, maybe the context is more important.
The character merely flows through that context.
What has interested me ever since Y Tu Mamá También,
is the relationship between subject and context.
With a close-up, you're emphasizing the subject,
the actors, the characters.
I love close-ups,
but I don't condone using them to make the narrative easier.
In the language of TV, and most commercial films,
whenever a character speaks, you have a close-up.
And then you cut to another close-up of the reply.
You can watch those movies with your eyes closed.
There's no language in them.
Right from the moment I decided I was making this film,
I knew it would be in black and white.
It's the only way it made sense. I couldn't see it in color.
I just couldn't.
It was a fundamental decision to convey meaning.
But the entire language must be different.
I had first imagined it in a square format.
And it was actually Lubezki, when he was involved in the film,
who told me I should consider other formats.
He said I should consider a wider format.
I was highly skeptical, until we did some tests.
It's a black-and-white picture set in the year 1970.
But you couldn't have achieved this kind of image back then.
Not just because of the format,
but because with a digital format there's a complete absence of grain.
Instead of hiding the digital format,
I fully embraced it.
This would be a 65mm movie, in black and white, and 4K.
That means it's pristine. There's absolutely no grain.
It's a different language.
I didn't want a nostalgic black-and-white cinematography.
I didn't want the film to look like it was from the '50s or '60s.
I wanted the film to look like it was from 2018,
but in black and white.
Once I'd decided on a format, it transformed everything else.
So, I decided the elements should traverse the format.
The choice to pan so much was a result of the format.
But I knew that the film had to remain objective,
and there's nothing more objective than a tracking shot from afar.
There were some camera movements I didn't want to use,
which were dolly shots moving forwards or backwards
because they were too subjective.
I wanted to keep that distance, to stay objective,
and let the moments add up so as to convey emotions,
and also evoke empathy, which was a side-effect.
The film doesn't follow one character's subjective point of view.
I didn't want it all to be seen from Cleo's perspective.
Cleo's only another character in this wider universe.
The story is about this universe.
The characters only traverse it.
This film is certainly about personal, inner wounds,
but also about social scars.
At least for my generation,
there are two particularly deep wounds for Mexican society.
One is October 2nd, 1968.
It would be ridiculous to say that it was society's first democratic claim,
considering that several unions had been fighting for many years.
But it was the first time
that the middle class sympathized with this struggle.
And, as we know, it was suppressed.
I vaguely remember 1968, but I was too young.
I remember my mom took me to the March of Silence.
I remember certain images, and the sound of footsteps.
The second is June 10th, 1971. We call it the Halconazo.
I vividly remember staring at the newspaper photographs.
This event had a profound impact on me.
In some way,
it was perhaps when I first became socially conscious.
WHY SUPPRESS THE DESIRE FOR DEMOCRACY?
On June 10th, 1971, there was a first attempt
at reclaiming our democracy, and it was repressed.
PUBLIC DIALOGUE
These were protests by students, and the press demonized them.
WE FIGHT FOR THE RIGHTS OF THE MEXICAN PEOPLE
-University of Nuevo León. -Present!
Cut! Well done.
I became aware of this while in elementary school.
I mean, I was a student too. I thought I was in danger.
Childhood imaginings.
We're doing the final chant. "Mexico! Freedom!"
Let's repeat the chant three or four times.
That's when the beating starts.
It burst the comfy, middle-class bubble I was living in.
It's vital that we recreate the sound of terror and screaming.
All right, guys?
It was crucial for me to shoot the June 10th scene
on the Mexico-Tacuba road.
Not just on that street but in that building.
HARPER INSTITUTE
It was a furniture shop.
There are photographs that show
the chaos on the street with the shop in the background,
and with scared onlookers watching from its windows.
RODRIGUEZ FURNITURE
Even as a kid, I was intrigued by the people in that furniture shop.
The people up there watching the events on the street below.
THE BEST FURNITURE
I don't want it to be too crowded, so we can take it all in.
Those iconic moments. People on the ground, getting beaten.
It's not like the Halcones were part of the elite.
Originally, they were recruited from the city's sanitation department.
In a way, many Halcones had also been exploited.
LUIS ECHEVERRÍA FOR THE GREATNESS OF MEXICO
They were used by the system as tools of repression.
I didn't want the film to just be a mosaic of personal memories.
I wanted to include the context of the Mexico I grew up in,
and to weave in this perverse relationship that exists in Mexico,
and elsewhere in the world, between class and race.
Action!
-Everyone ready for the take. -Someone tell them to keep running.
Action!
Go back.
Let's get the people here to go back.
People demanding democracy became frustrated,
and the result of that was the Dirty War.
It was a war between the state and different groups,
in different parts of the country, and it lasted a couple of decades.
In fact, Mexico's most recent elections
are a consequence of those historic events.
Get up, you dog!
Cut!
Mexico is more vibrant than ever, especially the new generations.
My generation's Mexico was very closed off.
The rest of the world didn't exist for that Mexico.
Even the rest of Mexico didn't exist.
It was a suffocating Mexico where information was controlled.
CENTRAL CAMPAIGN COMMITTEE
The new generations have more creative energy.
These new generations are more informed,
and they raise their voices against injustice.
But Mexico is more vibrant in terms of social movements.
The scenes at the Centro Médico were shot on location.
The locations and art departments were lucky enough to find
the only building that had survived,
which was being used for storage,
and was scheduled to be torn down.
This is what we have to do, slowly.
This last shot.
Maybe here I can shoot the glass cabinet.
We also wanted to use the original furnishings.
Eugenio took stuff from all the floors of the building
and combined everything into a single, usable floor.
You know, sinks and office chairs that were in decent condition.
Yalitza didn't know that her daughter would be stillborn.
Patient with fetal distress.
Begin stimulation. Stethoscope.
-I can't feel a heartbeat. -No pulse, she's in cardiac arrest.
Start CPR.
We rehearsed the scene with the doctors and nurses.
Everyone in the roles of doctors and nurses
are real-life doctors and nurses.
It's what they do.
The pediatrician is real, and so is the gynecologist.
Each nurse actually works in that particular specialty.
So, what we did with them was rehearse to precision.
All right, let's do one last trial run.
Let's work out how to do it so it's much more effective.
Can we get the baby in position?
Maybe a little further back. Further back. There you go.
Does that distance make sense?
Yes, because to talk to her I have to walk over.
-And it's nicer. -That's when I tell her what happened.
I ask if she wants to meet her, and hand her over.
Let's do one more rehearsal, please.
I'm no gynecologist.
So, I made sure these professionals had what they needed.
To set up the scene, we discussed what their needs might be.
But first, I wanted to see how they work,
and what they would do in this kind of emergency.
Action!
On three. One, two, three.
-Cord severed. -Doctor, cardiac arrest.
All right.
Keep breathing, Cleo.
-Any discomfort? -No.
Still unresponsive.
Here's a thought.
She could start swaddling the baby
as you walk over here towards the mother
and say, "I'm very sorry, your baby was stillborn.
We did everything we could. Would you like to see her?"
She can bring the baby over, and that way, we save time.
She would bring the baby over here.
What would you do in that moment?
-Stay with the mother. -Got it.
Here's my question...
If you walk up to tell her that her baby is stillborn,
would you remove your face mask?
-The doctor would. -You would, right?
So, as you walk over,
take off the face mask and tell her.
I say, "I'm very sorry. Your baby was stillborn.
We did everything we could, but she was unresponsive."
-Then Rocío brings the baby. -I give her to him, and he passes her on.
All right, I think we've got a good grasp on the dynamics.
It's important we know what they're going to do.
Once it was clear they had what they needed,
and we were technically ready to start shooting,
we brought Yalitza into the set.
Yalitza, please lie back and get into position.
I think this helped, Galo.
Try not to cut them.
-Here? -A little higher, please.
What she suspected
was that we had a living baby under the gurney.
So, she performed the scene with that expectation.
Action!
-Everything's ready. -All right, one, two, three.
Pediatrics to the OR.
Lower your hips, please.
So, when the events started to unfold,
her anguish was totally real.
Try to stay calm, you're doing great.
-Sever the cord. -Clamps.
-Sever the cord. -Severed.
-We couldn't find a pulse. -Let's start resuscitation.
I was talking to Lizbeth, who plays the gynecologist.
She said, "It's so strange, because as we got into the scene,
we forgot we were in a movie.
Our professional muscle memory is perhaps so strong
that our actions become almost automatic.
But when the moment came to tell the mother the news,
we started crying.
It's a powerful moment, so it came naturally to us."
One, two, three.
-Listening for a pulse. -Can I get a suture, please?
Still unresponsive.
Suspend resuscitation.
Doctor, what's the patient's name?
Her name is Cleo, Doctor.
Cleo, I'm very sorry.
Your baby was stillborn.
We did everything we could, but she was unresponsive.
Would you like to see her?
Here's your baby. She's a girl.
Say goodbye to her.
I'm have to take her. Say goodbye to her.
I'm sorry, but they need to prepare her.
I'll take her now.
-Can you wrap her, please. -Yes, Doctor.
-Doctor, here's the file. -Thank you.
Can I have another pair of gloves, please?
Cleo, we're very sorry.
You will bleed a little bit.
Cleo, breathe deeply. Try to stay calm.
I didn't know.
What a scene! All of you, what a scene!
I'm blown away.
Blown away.
-Are you all right? -Yeah.
I thought you were getting a real baby.
Yeah, that was unexpected.
I didn't tell you so as not to stifle what comes naturally.
Well, thank you. Let's get ready. Let's go.
Honestly, I'd like to shoot the scenes properly--
-When the sun is lower? -Yes, that's better.
-Yeah, at two o'clock? -Yes, but don't waste your emotions.
You did amazing things yesterday because they were fresh.
-We should rehearse it. -What do you think?
All right.
Can we shoot the scene at two o'clock?
Does it make a difference if we rehearse with bathing suits?
It's the same.
I derive great pleasure from the other kind of cinema,
not just cinema like that of Roma.
I really enjoy more conventional narrative cinema.
And I also enjoy the work that such cinema requires.
Some elements from Roma might fit with Hollywood cinema.
Although I don't like the concept of "Hollywood cinema."
Cinema is cinema.
There are good and bad films, conventional and classic films.
Hollywood has it all.
Both forms of cinema are equally enthralling.
Get in position.
A little closer.
When you're making a more narrative film,
you can always fall back on the narrative.
I think this way is more elevated in the sense that
the risk is greater.
Because you don't have the usual safety net.
When the narrative is minimal, you're left with the rest,
which is what interests me about films: the mystery.
When I see that mystery in films, I don't get how it was done.
I understand the technical side, but not how it came to be.
The process behind Roma was what mattered.
On the one hand, there is a huge risk,
but the rewards it offers are truly worth it.
Things that you never could have planned.
All the pieces come together, not just in the scene,
but in a single take.
I would go as far as to say that Roma is my first film.
It's the first film I've done
that truly embodies the kind of cinema I aspire to make.
There's something called "back light."
You know what that is? Light coming from the back.
It's the best thing in both film and photography.
Look, see for yourself. Look at him.
Can you stay still?
You see how he's got this...?
Look at his face.
If you place him facing the sun, he's going to look like this.
See? But from this position, he's calm, relaxed.
And there's a small circle of light around him.
You see how nice he looks? Come see him from this side.
He's always going to look handsome, but this is even better.
Turn this way.
See? Everything flattens.
A halo of light. That's what's cool about it.
It gives him volume, right?
Exactly. That's what's cool. Back light gives you volume.
You turn this way and you look at it. Everything flattens.
His physical presence has more volume and you can see the background.
-Do you get it? -Yeah.
And that applies when you're shooting interiors.
Always try to use back light in interiors, too.
-To get more volume. -Yeah, to get more volume.
And then you add more lighting from the sides.
Look. Look at his face.
Now you're adding light from this side.
Those are visual, photographic techniques.
The other part is directing.
How you set up your actors, how you tell your story,
and what kind of shots you're going to use.