Roma ★★½

The naval-gazing adherence to craft that supersedes its very own impact that becomes so much easier to admire than to actually love. Roma feels like the perfect antidote to the high-profile cinema of 2018. Set master, pan, long shot, pan, insert, medium master, pan, long shot... it carries on with this meticulous composure and never abates. Within it are stories, people, places, ideas - but Cuarón decidedly neglects to capture these exact moments that are so desperately in need to connect. The performances are in there, but you cannot see them. A remoteness that becomes frustrating, if not slightly tedious. By its final thirty minutes, a greater impact is implanted as it ever so slightly focuses in. Its machinations more reasoned. But it's a sliding scale of meticulousness that doesn't seem to do justice to this story and specifically to the character of Cleo. Instead, it's a film seemingly in love with itself made with such specific decisions and patterns by a great filmmaker. It would be disingenuous to say otherwise.