Far from being a agitprop piece, Rara is a film that doesn’t go for shock value
In 2012, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights ruled against Chile for having violated several principles of the Inter-American Convention of Human Rights by removing three children from the custody of their mother, Judge Karen Atala, in 2004, just because she was a lesbian. And in December of the same year, the Chilean government restored the judge’s parental rights and mandated financial compensation and therapy for the children.
The lawsuit had been originally filed by the father of the three girls, Jaime López, who considered that Atala’s sexual orientation as well as her cohabitation with Emma de Ramón could be harmful for the normal development of the girls.
A Chilean-Argentine co-production, Rara (“Strange”) is a smart, insightful film directed by Pepa San Martín and co-written with Alicia Scherson, which is based on the real-life case of discrimination against Atala. It’s not a strict account of what actually happened, but a fictional recreation that bears strong similarities while weaving its own story of prejudice and unfairness towards LGBTIQ people in a heteronormative society. Rara won the Best Film award in the Generation Kplus sidebar at the Berlinale, and Pepa San Martín is also a former Berlin short film award winner.
In Rara, Paula (Mariana Loyola) is separated from her ex-husband, Victor (Daniel Muñoz), and now lives with Lia (Agustina Muñoz), together with her children, Sara (Julia Lübbert) and Catalina (Emilia Ossandon). At first sight, you’d think that everything is just fine: Victor and his girlfriend Nicole (Sigrid Alegría) even visit his ex-wife and kids and spend some quality time together. Or so it seems.
However, things change when Catalina naively draws her all-female family at school and it it’s not well received: the principal calls the mother to explain what that drawing is all about. So it’s not surprising that the lesbian couple try to keep their relationship in low profile. And in due time, Víctor will turn out to be not such an understanding person. Even when to the girls everything feels absolutely natural and harmless, many of those outside the family think differently. And, of course, every now and then their hostility becomes apparent.
Narrated from the point of view of Sara, Rara first focuses on her main petty worries: she’s just had her braces removed so that’s to be celebrated, she likes one of her classmates, Julián, and sooner or later she will let him know that. She’s also about to turn 13, so a birthday party is on the way. Actually, Sara’s best friend is the one planning the party. Needless to say, the friend also thinks the life Sara leads at home is perfectly natural. She dares say she’d rather kiss a girl than an ugly boy.
The first remarkable asset you see in Rara are the performances — and I mean all of them — though it’s only fair to point out that Julia Lübbert stands out as Sara. Not only because she’s the one with more screen time (she’s practically in every single scene) but also because she knows how to effortlessly convey an undercurrent of slight despair and moderate concern that at times seems to well in her. She’s the one most affected by the whole situation and the one who doesn’t have that many emotional resources to deal with everything.
Catalina is more oblivious to what others think, and so the young Emilia Ossandon builds a more happy-go-lucky character that’s often too busy with a kitten she’s found that neither of her parents want her to keep. As for the two mums, Mariana Loyola and Agustina Muñoz have enough chemistry and their couple’s dynamics are as believable as they are engaging. In short: you really have a family here.
Then there’s the tone: Rara could’ve been a melodrama, an agitprop piece, or a belligerent cry for justice and acceptance — which wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. However, Pepa San Martín opts to be non-strident (which doesn’t mean she’s not combative), seldom overstates her ideas, doesn’t care for shock value, and so a welcoming sense of realism is naturally achieved. And that’s a hard thing to get right, so it’s all the more commendable.
It’s true that Rara is a film that wants to convey its intentions in the clearest of ways. At times, it can get a bit didactic. But considering today’s context regarding same-sex couples and alternative families, being didactic is hardly a real problem. Because, at the same time and for the most part, the film cares deeply about the hardships and joys of the characters, their everyday life as it comes, how they cope with life at large, and leaves its political agenda aside. In short: it’s a film about people like everybody else who make the best of what they have and who they are.
production notes
Rara (Chile, Argentina, 2016). Directed by Pepa San Martín. Written by Alicia Scherson, Pepa San Martín. With Julia Lübbert, Mariana Loyola, Agustina Muñoz, Emilia Ossandón, Daniel Muñoz, Sigrid Alegría, Coca Guazzini. Editing: Soledad Salfate. Cinematography: Enrique Stindt. Running time: 90 minutes.
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