ARTICLE: “The Desert Bride,” a love like no other, Clarín newspaper

CLARIN, Pablo Scholz

With an unusual maturity for a debut feature, the directors tell a simple and engaging story.

A small story, told with simplicity and no local color, good framing, and two measured yet engaging performances. That’s what La novia del desierto offers: the debut feature co-directed by Cecilia Atán and Valeria Pivato, which had its world premiere in the Un Certain Regard official selection at the Cannes Film Festival.

Teresa (the Chilean actress Paulina García, who played the president of Chile in La cordillera and won Best Actress at the Berlin Film Festival for Gloria) works as a domestic worker in a house in Buenos Aires. But they can no longer afford to pay her, so the family, with whom she has grown fond, finds her a job in San Juan, at the home of Rodrigo’s in-laws. He sets off for there, in this sort of road movie with sentimental touches and not a single cheap shot.

The bus has a minor accident but must abandon the trip near the Difunta Correa shrine. There she meets a stallholder, El Gringo (Claudio Rissi, miles of miles away from the roles that characterize him as evil, perverse, and/or depraved), in whose truck/fitting room she has forgotten her bag with all her belongings.

From there, the directors—who met while assisting Juan José Campanella on Luna de Avellaneda—construct a narrative that is little more than a short film, partly because of its length—just 78 minutes—and partly because of its modest ambitions.

As is often the case, less is more, and not overemphasizing or reinforcing with heavy strokes what is best received with subtlety is an advantage.

The directors draw on their maturity—despite this being their debut feature—from having worked in the local film industry as assistants to many renowned directors. And that’s why La novia del desierto exudes such confidence in its shot selection, its narrative style, and the simplicity of its storytelling, in which nothing is superfluous or missing.

Teresa’s vulnerability and humility come across directly and clearly, and it’s very easy to empathize with her and feel attached to her. The same goes for the Gringo, a character who acts like a smooth operator but has his own quirks, and whom the filmmakers have had the virtue of knowing how to squeeze for all he’s worth—but no further.

The Desert Bride is pleasing, and will appeal to an audience that surrenders itself, yes, but that it doesn’t seek to please at every moment. It never underestimates the viewer, who will be able to project many of their own experiences and thoughts onto the characters.

Isn't that what we're looking for most of the time when we go to the movies to see a good film?