353. The Heiresses (Las herederas); movie review

THE HEIRESSES (LAS HEREDAS)
Cert 12A
98 mins
BBFC advice: Contains moderate sex reference,  infrequent strong language

I had spent an entire life without seeing a movie based in Paraguay and then two come along in a summer.
But Marcelo Martinessi's The Heiresses flicks back to the recent past rather than the ancient history of Zama.
Martinessi describes Paraguay as a country of the haves and have-nots which has been largely invisible to the outside world.
But, as his protagonists, Chela (Ana Brun) and Chiquita (Margarita Irún) discover, wealth may be a burden at time of political upheaval.
The pair are from rich families and have been together in comfortable surroundings for 30 years but, as the money has begun to run out, they are having to sell possessions.
Then comes the hammer blow that Chiquita is being indicated on fraud charges and is taken off to jail.
The irony is that she acclimatises better to the hierarchy of the prison that Chela does to being on her own.
However, eventually she finds a niche as a taxi driver of elderly women.
The Heiresses is one of those rare films during which men are hardly represented. It works well without them because it allows Martinessi to explore the conversations which would be rarely held in front of husbands and brothers.
It also adds a realism to a storyline which took place when many of the men would have been away with the military or even locked up.
My difficulty with Heiresses is that there isn't enough going on. The camera lingers too long over scenes are quiet is used more than action.
However, its central players are effective, particularly during the prison scenes, and it does offer an insight into life in Paraguay.

Reasons to watch: A rare glimpse into Paraguay, the invisible state
Reasons to avoid: The camera lingers too long

Laughs: None
Jumps: None
Vomit: None
Nudity: None
Overall rating: 6/10

Director quote - Marcelo Martinessi: "It is impossible to talk about Paraguayan cinema without being aware of the years of darkness, many decades without the possibility of film-making. During the 60s and 70s, while the rest of Latin America narrated its own stories, my country remained invisible

The big question - How can cinema simply disappear in a country?

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