‘In view of the fact there is little difference between an objective and a subjective view of the world, reality often presents itself as a slow, vexing process, as insoluble as unnecessary,’ according to Luis Ortega. Where Ortega’s début film Caja negra from 2001 was a lot different from most film débuts from Argentina, his second, the fascinating Monoblock, goes even further. The film is characterised by a unique visual mood in which the hermetic interiors are even more powerfully stylised than the almost-alien artificial outside world, which we only see in a limited number of scenes. It’s as if everyone who can has left the earth. In this strange universe overshadowed by leaden doom, it’s possible that other suppositions apply, but in the end it comes down to tenderness, love and loneliness. And to death, which comes so close we cannot ignore it. The story is about three women. The recently sacked, sick Perla has to go to hospital regularly to have her blood purified. Her handicapped daughter Nena, with whom she shares a sombre room, works as a prostitute. And then we have the talkative heavy drinker Madrina next door. The three spend their days involved in unrealistic and occasionally even illogical conversations. (GT)
