The Sacrifice

Offret
a film by Andrei Tarkovsky

Events unfold in the hours before a nuclear holocaust. Alexander is a retired actor who is celebrating his birthday with family and friends when a crackly TV announcement warns of an imminent nuclear catastrophe. Alexander makes a promise to God that he will sacrifice all he holds dear, if the disaster can be averted. The next day dawns and, as if in a dream, everything is restored to normality. But Alexander must keep his vow.

Set in Sweden, the story follows the travails of wealthy patriarch Alexander, a former actor and critic who lives in a remote house on the shores of the Baltic Sea. One year on his birthday, a sudden television announcement interrupts the celebration with news of a nuclear holocaust. His family and guests suffer through violent fits of hysteria and emotional turmoil in the ensuing hours, but the previously troubled Alexander finds a clarity of mind when he makes a pact with God, whom he had long ceased to recognise, offering himself as a sacrifice in order to redeem the fallen earth for his cherished son. "Every gift involves a sacrifice. If not, what kind of gift would it be?".

As Alexander goes from self-contented ease to crippling animal fear and existential anguish and finally to spiritual abandon, the troubled journey is illustrated with a haunting succession of images, tableaux, objects, dreams, and gestures, all sewn together in a seamlessly elliptical vision. The tormented characters are forced to come to terms with their own physical and spiritual existence, with redemption coming through faith, in this case, Alexander's faith in his love for his young son.

Supremely poetic, The Sacrifice is filled with astonishingly beautiful images, expertly shot by Ingmar Bergman's cinematographer Sven Nykvist. Tarkovsky's vision is a light that illuminates the simplest movements of life such as the offering of a gift, a walk along the bay, the reflection of a naked body in a mirror, and the film's underlying aesthetic and philosophical issues provide a feast for the senses and the mind. This, Tarkovsky's final film, is a visionary masterpiece which won the Grand Prix at Festival de Cannes 1986, the same year that Tarkovsky died of cancer in Paris at the age of fifty-four.

El niño pez

The Fish Child
a film by Lucía Puenzo

Lala, a teenager from the most exclusive suburban neighbourhood in Buenos Aires is in love with Ailín, known as "la Guayi", the 20-year-old Paraguayan maid working at her home. The girls dream of living together in Paraguay, on the shores of Lake Ypoá. Methodically planning their escape, they steal money, valuables and even a painting from Lala's family in order to fulfil their dream. But the murder of Lala's father, a rich and influential judge who has begun to abuse Ailín, rushes their plans to leave together. This is the starting point that spurs the escape through the highway that connects the north of Buenos Aires with Paraguay. While Lala waits to be reunited with her lover in Ypoá by reconstructing her past (the mystery surrounding her pregnancy and the legend of a fish child who guides the drowned to the bottom of the lake), Ailín is detained in an institution for young offenders on the outskirts of Buenos Aires. She turns out to be hiding a crime from long ago. Desperate to be with her girlfriend, Lala devises a dangerous rescue plan to get her back.

The legend of Mítã'í Pírã. The Ypoá lake can be found in the heart of Paraguay, in an area called Esteros del Ypoá. In seasons of rain, the floods cover the entire region, devastating huge portions of the land. It is a land of legends and mysteries, with islands that appear and disappear in different places, and wanderers who never returned from the esteros, and buried jewels and gold that were hidden in times of the war of the Triple Alianza. So they say. Years ago, the people from a small village near the shores of the Ypoá lake turned a dead tree which is buried in the water into a shrine. They say that with their offerings, toys and photos of sick babies and children, they ask miracles of the fish child who lives in the depths of the lake. They say some children, playing close to the tree, saw him swimming between the roots with the speed and the grace of the creatures that live underwater. That he has membranes between his fingers, jelly eyes and waist-long hair, dark and green as seaweeds. They say he guides the drowned to the bottom of the lake.

The relationship between Lala and Ailín is complex. Ailín is a survivor through necessity. As a young teenager in Paraguay, she gave birth, alone, to the child of her own father who "fell in love" with her, but who abandoned her during the pregnancy. Following the death of the baby, Ailín fled to Argentina, finding work as a domestic servant to Lala's parents. She is a good and dependable worker who understands her place in society and embraces the few opportunities to better herself when these come her way. Her physical attractiveness and sweet nature make her desirable to men, and she responds to their advances when it is likely to bring her some security and stability. She is fun-loving, thoughtful, caring and kind to others, but knows that ultimately she alone is responsible for her own well-being. Life for her will always be a trade-off, that is her destiny.

Lala, by contrast, has grown up in a secure, bourgeois family environment, although one in which she now feels isolated, possibly due as much to herself as to her parents, who, whilst caring about her, remain distant in her life and are too absorbed in their own interests to really take notice of her. Her privileged upbringing is taken for granted because she knows no other, so it is of little importance to her. She longs to escape from it and to have Ailín to herself, unaware of the hardships she is likely to face in the real world. She is a child, adorable but naive, desperate to be loved but with no real understanding of life or herself.

When Ailín began working as a maid in the household, Lala as a 13-year-old girl fell in love with her, to the exclusion of all others, and over the years that love has grown but has not developed in a mature way. Her desire for their future together is more an escapist fantasy than a real plan for their happiness, and her emotional need for Ailín is child-like, dependent and possessive. This is highlighted by Lala's dream of eloping with Ailín to Ypoá, knowing little of the devastating significance that the memory of the place holds for her girlfriend. Whilst Ailín clearly loves Lala and wants a relationship with her, she is much more hesitant about throwing away what she has made of her life, even though Lala is the only person who has ever shown her true affection and love. In many ways, each sees within the other something that is missing in their life, and their love fulfils a fundamental need to regain something that has been lost.

In the final scene on the bus to Paraguay, Ailín conceals from Lala the fact that her dog is dying, whilst trying to reassure her, and convince herself, that they are on the point of achieving their dream. Life is still a trade-off and always will be for Ailín, and she clings to the hope, as we do, that she can now make Lala's dream come true, and that they will have a future together.

With stunning performances, beautiful cinematography and delicate editing, Lucía Puenzo's second feature takes us on an unforgettable journey. Based on her novel of the same name, written when she was 23 years old and published in 2004, it is a gripping and emotional tale of undying love and trust, with a poignant commentary on social inequality, exploitation, and the deep-seated corruption amongst the rich and powerful.