Olivia Review: An Unhurried Argentine Fable on Loss and Loneliness
Argentine director Sofía Petersen's film Olivia presents a mysterious and painterly exploration of grief and isolation, set against the stark, windswept landscapes of Tierra del Fuego. The film unfolds at a deliberately slow pace, often accompanied only by the desolate sound of the wind, aiming to immerse viewers in its contemplative mood. Despite receiving acclaim at last year's Locarno film festival, Olivia may challenge audiences with its formless and inert narrative structure.
A Self-Conscious Attempt at Slow Cinema
The film employs 16mm film to create still life compositions that linger on closeups of objects like old spoons and watch faces. However, these artistic choices can feel redundant and self-conscious, as the movie seems to hibernate within its own heavy, unlit gloom. While Petersen clearly believes in the importance of slow cinema, the central theme of grief often remains obscured rather than exposed, leaving viewers with a sense of bafflement and dispiritedness.
Plot and Characters in a Dreamlike World
Tina Sconochini stars as Olivia, a young woman living with her aged widower father, played by nonprofessional actor Dario del Carmen Haro Santana, in a small pyramidal hut in the rugged foothills. Olivia exhibits traits that suggest narcolepsy or a learning disability, though her childlike mannerisms might simply reflect the film's overall unreality. Her father works daily at an abattoir, while Olivia spends her time collecting and pinning bugs and insects.
When her father goes missing, Olivia embarks on a search that leads her to the abattoir. Instead of directly asking employees for help, she roams the stark building like a ghost. The employees, portrayed by real abattoir workers, assemble to chorally urge Olivia to accept that the "past is the past," adding to the film's faintly exasperating, dreamlike quality. It is here that Olivia meets Mari, played by Carolina Tejeda, who becomes a friend, lover, or quasi-mother figure, sharing a moment of intimate tenderness.
A Film That Feels Like a Funeral Ceremony
In many ways, Olivia resembles a funeral ceremony—seriously intended but often baffling and dispiriting. The film's unhurried pace and painterly visuals aim to delve deep into the meaning of grief, yet its formless nature can make it feel inert and inaccessible. For those willing to engage with its slow cinema aesthetic, it offers a unique, if challenging, perspective on loss and loneliness.
Olivia is set to be released in UK cinemas from 24 April, inviting audiences to experience its enigmatic and contemplative world.
