Spellbinding musical biography does justice to the uncanny magic of a unique popular artist
POINTS: 9
First, the facts. While on the road to promote her booming new album Corazón Valiente around Argentina, beloved cumbia singer and composer Gilda met a tragic end as her bus crashed head-on with a truck that had suddenly changed lanes. Gilda, her mother, her young daughter Mariel, three of her musicians as well as the bus driver died on September 7, 1996, en route to Entre Ríos — whereas her young son Fabrizio and other members of the band survived.
Enter the myth. Gilda’s fateful death at the height of her brief four-year-career shocked the entire country, her albums climbed to the top of the charts, and a posthumous album called no less than No Es Mi Despedida (“Not My Farewell”), with previously unreleased material, was launched in 1997 and soon became the best-selling album of the year. Right after the heartbreaking accident, her fans built a shrine precisely where the crash took place. Even before her death, they claimed she had a special gift for miraculously healing people. On her birthday, year after year, her fans visit the shrine to leave candles, flowers, and presents. Saint Gilda is thus born.
And now, almost 20 years after her death, comes Gilda, no me arrepiento de este amor, starring famous actress and singer Natalia Oreiro as the title character: a spellbinding musical biopic that does justice to the sweet candour and uncanny magic of a unique artist who transcended the boundaries of tropical music and social barriers and was recognized by notable musicians from different fields thanks to stirring tunes such as Corazón herido (“Broken Heart”), Corazón valiente (“Brave Heart”), Un amor verdadero (“True Love”), and her most emblematic No Me Arrepiento de este amor (“I Don’t Regret This Love”). Yes, it’s all about love, passion, and heartache.
Written and directed by Lorena Muñoz — co-written with Tamara Viñes — Gilda is an accomplished feature that never hides its intentions to pay homage to both the woman and the myth in a courteous and adoring manner. It’s based on the real life story, but it’s certainly not the ultimate truth about Gilda. Let’s say that it’s more of a fable, yet one rooted in reality.
Muñoz has a strong background in documentary filmmaking; she co-directed with Sergio Wolf their outstanding debut feature Yo no sé qué me han hecho tus ojos, about the mythical tango singer Ada Falcón — a great diva of the 1920s and the ‘30s — and then made her thought-provoking solo documentary Los próximos pasados about a forgotten mural by David Siqueiros. So it’s no surprise that Gilda bears the imprint of a filmmaker who smoothly mixes true-to-life facts with inspired poetic licences to make the whole affair of myth-making all the more absorbing.
Going from the artist’s early beginnings as a kindergarten teacher to her musical breakthrough in the often hostile cumbia scene of the early 1990s with partner/agent Toti Giménez (a very convincing Javier Drolas), Muñoz draws a detailed picture where you see the forest for the trees, but also the tree standing by itself.
From the early days of her love for her husband (Lautaro Delgado in an assured performance) to the hurdles in their marriage due to her career and his possessiveness, Gilda becomes a sad story of a painful break-up. Also important are Gilda’s memories of her caring bond with her father (Daniel Melingo in a luminous performance) and his death when she was a teenager (touchingly played by Ángela Torres), and then her growing up with a widowed, somewhat unaffectionate mother (Susana Pampín, superb as always).
In technical and aesthetic terms, Gilda goes beyond the expectations raised by a genre work with such high ambitions. Not only because Oreiro displays sheer talent in becoming Gilda (she recorded all the songs featured in the film, some of them live), but also because the cinematography, editing, musical score, art direction, sound, costumes and make-up are top notch. Each element of the language of cinema skilfully converges to paint a passionate picture, an immaculate period piece which results in a sense of style that never distracts viewers from the drama. On the contrary, it enhances it.
But what’s most remarkable, what makes the film so special, is that it has fully succeeded in capturing and conveying the enchanting aura of a cherished woman who now has her own cinematic shrine. Long live Saint Gilda.
Production notes
Gilda, no me arrepiento de este amor (Argentina-Uruguay, 2016). Directed by Lorena Muñoz. Written by Lorena Muñoz, Tamara Viñes. With Natalia Oreiro, Lautaro Delgado, Javier Drolas, Susana Pampín, Daniel Melingo, Angela Torres. Cinematography: Daniel Ortega. Editing: Alejandro Brodersohn. Running time: 117 minutes.
