The Headless Woman - Reids on Film
Directed by Lucrecia Martel
Argentina, 2008
For me, a film is not just storytelling but an attempt to share some perceptions with the viewer – Lucrecia Martel
This week’s film, The Headless Woman, is a puzzle. A film in which something dramatic happens, or perhaps a film in which nothing happens at all. One thing is certain though: this Argentinian film from 2008 drew conflicting responses from ReidsonFilm. One of us thought it a great film, two considered it a very good film although a difficult watch, and the last? Ninety minutes of empty tedium.
The Headless Woman is the third of a trio of films set in the Argentinian province of Salta where its director, Lucrecia Martel, grew up. It was preceded by The Swamp and The Holy Girl and all three share a common theme: ill-fated characters living in a society that is showing signs of decay, both literally and metaphorically. With The Headless Woman we begin with a prologue. Three boys are playing, chasing each other with a dog, alongside an empty canal by a road. In the background speeding cars pass by.
The setting switches to a middle-aged woman, Vero (María Onetto), who’s with a group of friends after a social get-together. Sporting a new bottle blonde hairstyle, she couldn’t be more different to the campesino boys we have just seen. She is pointedly a fully paid-up member of the Argentinian bourgeoisie. Vero sets off in her car. The road looks familiar. Distracted by her ringing mobile she hits something - there are two sharp bangs. Her head may have hit the steering wheel. We can see handprints on the window by the driver’s seat. What has she hit? We don’t know.
After a moment of stillness Vero gets out of the car, obviously in a state of shock. A reverse shot shows something lying in the road: it looks like a dog. The image becomes obscured as a storm breaks and raindrops fall.
From this point the film plays out with a narrative of ambiguity and uncertainty. Vero is confused, as are we. Nothing is clear. The director fixes Vero in close-up, shallow focus with the background in a blur. Traumatised, she arrives at a hospital, but we don’t know how she got there. After some investigations she ends up in a hotel and while there she has an impulsive overnight tryst with a man who later turns out to be a relation. So many unanswered questions.
We find out that Vero is a dentist, but she can’t work while in this perplexed state. Her family don’t appear to notice her detachment, though she obviously appears disorientated. As time passes, she becomes convinced that what she hit was a child and overwhelmed with guilt, she tells her husband, Marcos (César Bordón), that she has killed someone on the road…
Vero’s family try to reassure her that she is innocent as she pores over the newspapers looking for reports of her ‘crime’. However, a week later while driving along the same road with Marcos she sees the police with an ambulance. After the storm a body has been discovered in the overflowing canal. The director declines to reveal her hand. The Headless Woman is a meditative film reflecting on Vero’s guilt, yet it also challenges the viewer, forcing you to question your assumptions about what you have just seen.
Vero is trapped within the boundary of the camera frame, tightly shot and isolated. Static shots emphasise her detachment from a world which continues on its way without her. It is both discomfiting and disorientating to watch.
Parts reminded me of those moments in Loony Tunes cartoons, when you see adult characters but just their hands or legs… no head - N
Mixed in with a 70s Pop soundtrack, Martel at times uses jarring, atonal sound to disrupt the film’s narrative and she shoots scenes through rain-smeared or smoked glass windows, further clouding our understanding of events. This admittedly can make The Headless Woman a frustrating watch and for some, that frustration led to boredom. It has the mood of film noir but without the drive to an eventual resolution. Certainly, Vero herself brings to mind that other peroxide-blonde in a dissociative state, Kim Novak in Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo.
A veritable snoozefest. Even the lead actor herself nods off at one point - C
So, is Vero’s fugue state traumatic or psychogenic? Did she hit her head or not? Martel leaves these question unresolved, as is the latent source of Vero’s guilt: is it personal – was she having an affair with her cousin? Or maybe it stems from the exploitative class and race dynamic – Vero’s family are surrounded by servants, always in the background, spoken at rather than to. But perhaps there are wider issues at play. The Headless Woman is set during Argentina’s junta years, the country ruled by a repressive regime in which thousands of people are ‘disappeared’. This is a film that can be watched through different lenses.
The only person Vero relates to is her elderly Medusa-like Aunt Lala (María Vaner). Showing signs of dementia, she communes with the dead and warns that we are surrounded by ghosts. As the film reaches its end the family appears to close ranks and cover up whatever actually happened. Vero’s hospital records disappear as does any evidence of her overnight stay. Two of the boys from the prologue show up to work for a shop owner and it turns out that third has been missing for days.
The phrase ‘Every frame a painting’ is said to have originated with the film director, David Lean. With this film Martel has made every frame an enigma, haunted by Vero’s accident, be it an ambulance by the roadside or the family’s gardener unearthing a buried fountain. We finish with her joining another family gathering and nothing more is said about what has happened. Her hair is back to its natural dark colour, signalling that she is herself again. A satisfying conclusion? Certainly not, but I don’t think that was ever Martel’s intent.
What actually happened is beside the point - what makes this film so good is the way the director uses Onetto’s mesmeric, beguiling performance to leave you unsure whether you are watching a tale of a woman dealing with a concussion, a ghost story, or a political morality play - S
Reids’ Results (out of 100)
C - 51
T - 73
N - 70
S - 79
Thank you for reading Reids on Film. If you enjoyed our review please share with a friend, and let them know that we are here every Monday. Do leave a comment if you want to try and settle this intra-familial feud.
Coming next… Perfect Days(2023)
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