LuciaJoyce,
I've just re-seen Cria for the first time in what seems like decades although I think I've seen it in the interim since seeing it originally in the late 70s. It's not always that a film that bowled me over SO long ago still hits home and moves and feels as "fresh" today as it did then - it has not aged with time into anything 'dated' imo.
I'm choosing your post to enter the dialogue with because I like how you probed Brklyn4's pov, appreciated her (?) responses, but also share your nagging sense of insufficiency or incompleteness with those assessments because I too see more hopefulness in the coming-of-age process we have witnessed through Ana's wise-beyond-her-years eyes.
One supporting factor, as-yet-unmentioned (in this thread), would be the role played by Geraldine Chaplin as Ana 20 years later looking back on her childhood, expressing her struggle to understand herself and her impulses to kill her father, even her belief still as an adult that indeed she had killed her father - yet was not wracked by guilt over that - and yet we the viewers (SPOILER ALERT) know that Ana did not in fact kill her father. Even when we first hear of the magic can that Ana's mother had given her to throw away, we can hear that her mother could have been teasing her or being playful with Ana's sense of fantasy and power by overstating its powers. Yet that is for us to witness and it adds poignancy to think the adult Ana still doesn't seem to know that what she as a child had invested with such power was a can of apparently expired baking soda.
What magic she invests with power is to me the thread that can lead to seeing the film as empowering - not through the child-like super-powers Ana presumes that magic can gives her - to choose the when and how of death for her immediate family members - be it from revenge or from compassion (Ana as a very early film protagonist in the name of assisted suicide). Jose Luis Borges has a famous line this recalls - roughly translates in English as: "I don't know myself. I don't even know the hour and means of my death." Ana's preoccupation with death (not surprising given how much of it she has experienced) can be seen as her own route to self-understanding and to the kind of personal power that implicitly yields an Ana 20 years later who seems self-reflective in a very self-caring, quietly empowered way that suggests Ana did not in fact succumb to the "system" that sought to indoctrinate her.
Ana had the memory of her mother's deathbed words resonating in her: "It's all a lie. ... They lied to me... There's nothing ..." Those imho were her mother's indictment of her Catholic upbringing suggesting that death would bring peace and salvation and visions of heaven, whereas she was feeling no such relief or release and had no desire for such a heaven, only wanted to live. That maternal message clearly stayed with Ana and would have given her a kind of resilience in the face of the indoctrination the system (including her Aunt as emissary of that voice - as well as the various military males inhabiting Ana's young life).
I hear Porque te Vas -- which was the single most salient memory of my first viewing of the film over 30 years ago -- the scene where the 3 girls dance to it once the aunt has left (That was the first time they listened to it all the way through, then again at the end it plays through in 'voiceover') -- anyway, that song is one i hear Ana actually treasure because ironically the words of that song keep her mother alive in her consciousness and memory - as she identifies with and memorizes lyrics that tell her her experience is not unique but one that a song has given her words with which to name her feelings of longing and abandonment. The song itself nurtures her (and as such is a salve for abandonment). Having that song close out the film in voiceover and with camera also in "overview" panning back over the school leaves me with a feeling more akin to Ana affirming a "we shall overcome" resilience that had been her gift all along, bucking convention and mandates to voice her own individual spirit. The Ana 20 years later seems to me to confirm that young Ana mellowed into a mature independent thinker who keeps questioning and not accepting the status quo. That to me is a hopeful final message.
Carolyn
p.s. I just remembered this thread had started out being about the dream ... I responded entirely to other comments in above replies but might add a thought about the dream as well while i'm at it :-) ... What I heard in Irene's dream that she recounts to a rapt Ana at breakfast, with Rosa overhearing, is that Irene too is "free" from the constraints of the adult authority world, the one where their Aunt would have silenced any such talk. The telling of the dream, with all its sense of impending violence, can be seen as symbolic of an uncensored childhood where kids can actually voice what comes to them in nightmares or in visions and not be silenced or punished for doing so. To me, in the spirit I described above, it also adds to feeling a positive take on the film's end - these sisters are growing up to find their own voices and communicate their anxieties, which in itself (I say this as a therapist) is a key to healthy self-definition. Neither Irene nor Ana is shamed or secretive about their inner lives but increasingly able to speak their truths (noteworthy for Irene who was fairly conformist at the beginning).
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