Even though it happens only moments after you’re first introduced to Silvia (Manuela Oyarzún) in “La Perra,” a look of tranquility comes over her in the morning after finding a dog that she comes to call Yuri that you sense that she’s never experienced before. She drinks her coffee with ease as a reality singing competition plays on a TV in the back and while the dog is nowhere to be seen, likely exploring what’s going on outside, as she basks in the glow of the sun that peers through her window, it seems like the place that she’s lived in for years feels comfortable. Dominga Sotomayor’s splendid drama has no shortage of breathtaking sights, set in a coastal community of Chile where the sunsets can be especially extraordinary, but the scene of Silvia in complete contentment is among its most awe-inducing, all the more so when you realize how rare it is.
In “La Perra,” it appears that Yuri has come to rescue Silvia, though at first the opposite is true after the pup is pulled from the ocean by the fishermen that regularly trawl the water to keep the locals afloat financially and she quickly scoops up the girl as kids are playing with it on the shore. Her husband Mario (David Gaete) looks mildly surprised that she’s taken such an interest, but then again, there are clearly things that Silvia has kept close to the vest in the tight-knit community where privacy is surely at a minimum and though Mario looks like a fine partner, it doesn’t look like anyone cares for her as much as she cares for others as she’s become a real steward of the land, harvesting seaweed and collecting cans and bottles that wash up on the rocks, taking a particular interest in the upkeep of a long ago abandoned house once inhabited by a wealthy family, a concrete, rectangular architectural marvel that can look like the monolith in “2001” when the light hits it just right that the locals can use primarily now for rowdy rooftop parties.
Although the film is an adaptation of Pilar Quintana’s novel of the same name, “La Perra” clearly has Sotomayor’s fingerprints all over it from the intimacy that has made films such as “Mar” and “Too Late to Die Young” so intoxicating to a love of open roads, seeing Silvia like so many other of the filmmaker’s past protagonists roam around the hills, overcoming the pathways that are always less smooth than they could be on a quad bike. The grit pleasingly extends to what could easily be a saccharine story in someone else’s hands when Silvia’s life is initially made to feel complete by Yuri’s companionship but the relationship doesn’t come easily with Yuri’s penchant to wander off without notice or chew on rope or crab claws where Silvia can be far more upset with the damage the dog is doing to itself than what its wreaking on any objects. Ideas about what Silvia may have missed in not becoming a mother herself are both positively and negatively reinforced as she tries her best to keep the unruly animal in check, but she also has a real kinship with the dog that makes more sense once both are revealed to be orphans, prone to an independent streak, and when Yuri goes missing for a time, Silvia is led back to revisit some particularly painful childhood memories from which she’s never entirely recovered when going to look for her.
Although Oyarzún gives a marvelously stoic turn as Silvia, the resemblance between the character and the wild creature she’s adopted can’t be overlooked as Silvia can be impulsive in her choices, perhaps nowhere near as demonstrably as Yuri, but still surprisingly deferential or rebellious depending on the circumstance and gaining control over the canine appears more and more an effort to feel some power over her own life. (Dog lovers be warned that this can end up in some dark places.) “What happened?” is often asked of Yuri after she’s found, an inherently rhetorical question when there can’t be an expectation of an answer yet it becomes a genuine one on the part of Silvia as she struggles to understand herself and reconcile feelings of abandonment that she may have experienced herself or imposed on others. A choice to follow Yuri sometimes while Silvia doesn’t know where she is not only yields some exhilarating sequences as cinematographer Simone D’Arcangelo tries to keep up (adding to the generally staggering camerawork throughout the film that makes the most of its windswept seaside locale), but offers a fascinating alternative perspective on what it’s like to navigate the world with freedom sans any guardrails for protection. “La Perra” has that spirit of independence running all the way through without any of the drawbacks when it so fearlessly tackles the capricious nature of trauma, unafraid of its rough edges but also locating the unexpected places where comfort can be found.
“La Perra” will screen again at Cannes as part of Directors Fortnight on May 18th at 8:30 pm at the Theatre Croisette and May 19th at 4:30 pm at the Cinema Studio 13 and May 20th at 9 am at the Cinema La Licorne and 11:30 am at the Cinema Les Arcades/Salle 1.