28/02/2023 - BERLINALE 2023: In Argentinian director Martín Benchimol's third feature-length film, we enter a fairy tale that is destined to be confronted by harsh reality

Argentinian filmmaker Martín Benchimol describes his third feature-length film, The Castle [+see also:
trailer
interview: Martín Benchimol
film profile], which has just world-premiered in the Berlinale's Panorama, as a docu-fiction hybrid in which he worked closely with the protagonists, sometimes recreating past situations or depicting an imaginary future. Playing out like a fairy tale that inevitably crashes headfirst into reality, it is a warm portrayal of two women in an extraordinary setting, but also an incisive look at class and racial relations in Latin America.

The fairy-tale dimension is the picture's most obvious aspect. Justina (Justina Olivo), an indigenous woman now seemingly in her late fifties, has inherited a huge mansion in the Argentinian Pampas after having worked her whole life for the family that owned it. There is one condition, though: she can never leave or sell the place. Now she lives there with her daughter Alexia (Alexia Caminos Olivo).

As the film opens, Benchimol trains his static camera on a corridor in the house, to the sound of José Manuel Gatica's excellent score blending modern classical and jazz, with an unmistakeable whimsical flourish. First, a cat enters the shot, followed by the chubby Justina, who is, in turn, followed by a black lamb. She opens the blinds and the light streams in, revealing once-regal interiors that are now crumbling.

Not that Justina and Alexia are lazy; they do the best they can but have little income for repairs. When it rains, they run around putting pots on the floor and covering the furniture with plastic sheets. There are 12 rooms and six bathrooms, but the piping system is clogged up. Plaster has fallen off in many places, and damp spots are spreading from the ceilings to the walls.

On the 62-hectare estate, they have several cows, and when it's time to pay the bills and taxes, they sell them off, one by one. Meanwhile, Justina has a lover in another town, whom she often talks to on the phone but who never seems to come to visit, and Alexia is into cars, wanting to become a racing driver and planning to work in a friend's garage in Buenos Aires.

Every now and then, the family of the previous owners arrives for the weekend. This is where we are directly faced with the class and racial inequalities. When this group of white people with their sunglasses, designer shoes and handbags waltzes in, Justina puts on her best blouse, ready to serve them, while the younger woman glowers in the background. Thanks to Benchimol's empathetic approach, the viewer perceives this situation as profoundly sad and shares in Alexia's anger.

The house does truly look like a castle, with its high tower and a solid facade that, in its heyday, probably used to be mono-coloured. Inside, the silverware, stylish framed photographs and antique furniture acquire a very different meaning with the two indigenous women and animals around them – the black lamb sitting in one of the plush, red velvet chairs is a sweet but absurd image. Without any upper-class, white people for the women to serve, it makes for a jarring impression for the viewer and puts them in a position where they have to face their own prejudices. Justina's loyalty and responsibility thus paint her as a stoic character who will keep her promise, no matter what. Alexia, however, a true child of the 21st century, is a different story altogether, and her character and desires round off this dream-like picture of unique, melancholy-infused beauty, complementing it with a welcome, tangy flavour.

The Castle is a co-production by Argentina's Gema Films and France's Sister Productions, and Luxbox has the international rights.