THE STORY – Waves of change erupt on campus, and among the occupations and rallies is Julia, a music student who joins the cause to denounce the harassment and abuse they’ve endured for far too long. But as she sings and dances to the rhythm of the chants, an unresolved episode haunts her: a confusing encounter with Max, her voice teacher’s assistant. What happened that night? Was it just another date? Did she say yes? Or was it something much worse?
THE CAST – Daniela López, Lola Bravo, Avril Aurora & Paulina Cortés
THE TEAM – Sebastián Lelio (Director/Writer), Manuela Infante, Josefina Fernández & Paloma Salas (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 129 Minutes
A year after catastrophically dropping the hydrogen bomb that we now know today as “Emilia Pérez” upon weary festival attendees, festival director Thierry Fremaux impressively managed to save his public image of a charming French academic in the fallout of his radioactive curation. Regardless of the parodic nature of Jacques Audiard’s Euro-trash sensibilities and his equally offensive politics, accredited spectators attending this year’s Cannes Film Festival were already groaning at the prospects of another Spanish language musical in the Official Selection. Karla Sofía Gascón’s troublesome, albeit insatiably entertaining, Oscar campaign remains one of the most bewildering crashouts in awards season history. It’s safe to say, upon its arrival on the Croisette, that Sebastián Lelio’s “The Wave“ was met with unfair skepticism.
Akin to the spirit of Audiard’s feature, Lelio exchanges drug cartel hullabaloo for feminist revolutions. The initial head-scratching combination of harmonious song and dance fused with sensitive political backgrounds regrettably shares structural similarities to Audiard’s preposterous pitch. However, while distancing itself from the backlash that continues to haunt “Emilia Pérez’s“ cursed production, Lelio’s latest artistic leap succeeds as a one-of-a-kind Latin American production. Instead of masquerading in Mexico within the cramped confines of a French sound studio, Lelio shot his feature on location. He collaborated with renowned Chilean producers Juan and Pablo Larraín with their production company Fabula.
More importantly, unlike the Parisian scribes who amplified the laughable politics at the crux of “Emilia Pérez’s“ tone-deaf soap opera, Lelio passed over his primary script duties to three women writers (Manuela Infante, Josefina Fernández, and Paloma Salas) who were familiar with the political context. Seventeen Chilean musicians, including Ana Tijoux, Camila Moreno, and Javiera Parra, collaborated on the musical composition of “The Wave“ with composer Matthew Herbert. It’s safe to say, in terms of the production and form of his musical production, Lelio did everything in his capacity to avoid the same plunderous pitfalls as Audiard’s streaming spectacular. Essentially, “The Wave“ is the reverse of “Emilia Pérez.”
In practice, its buoyant maximalism subverts the language of musicals. Lelio weaponizes the mechanics of the colorful genre to explore the sexist stigma that continues to besiege the Feminist May protests. The effectiveness of his vision is dependent on his expansive knowledge of musicals, while the paradoxical telling directly reflects upon the raging perspectives of the public. Amidst the student mobilization, Lelio toys with over-obvious metaphors. His protagonist, Julia, regularly attends classes at her local music college, where she’s quite literally trying to find her artistic voice. Julia represents every woman – a character raised in a low-income household. Her academic livelihood is funded through grants and the sanctity of her academic standing. Her family works at a local convenience store, where they make their living day by day.
Alongside the stress of her academic responsibilities and future examination, Julia finds herself questioning a recent unresolved sexual encounter with her vocal coach’s assistant. Left with only a foggy memory of the events, Julia’s life and autonomy unravel in the limelight of the 2018 Chilean feminist protests. Her story of her assault is lured into the heart of the demonstrations as her story, through the collaborative power of Lelio’s synchronous soundtrack, becomes the anthem of the movement. Cleverly, the musical framework behaves as an expanded metaphor for Julia’s loss of autonomy in the eyes of the Chilean populace.
As the rage sets the school grounds ablaze, shuttering the gates of the institution that betrayed their safety, the tenacity of the victims’ rage begins to repurpose Julia’s narrative. Her angsty demeanor and headstrong attitude are personified through Lelio’s implementation of magical realism. “The Wave“ unpredictability traverses through the fluidity of time and space, generating an anarchic rhythm that accompanies the maximalist transitions. While the foundation of Julia’s arc is somewhat tropey, the melodramatic mayhem that whisks her character into the heart of the protests symbolically dictates her disorientation. The walls of her college begin to warp into the abode of her abuser as the precise details of her testimony are intensely questioned by the public.
Conversations on class, material wealth, and academic integrity coalesce upon Julia’s responsibilities as an unlikely advocate for her feminist cause. “The Wave“ is unabashedly loud, chanting its thematic provocations with boisterous maximalism. The kinetic structure of the film purposefully utilizes the technicolor fantasia of its musical lexicon to dictate the loss of Julia’s own narrative. At its heart, Lelio is still working with a coming-of-age story. His mise-en-scène actively distinguishes the artificial creation of its musical malady, as the character’s anger retorts against their academic infrastructure. Adjacently, the characters also deconstruct the illusion of cinema and reflect upon their authorship within the audio-visual telling. Occasionally, the overtly cartoonish choreography diminishes the impact of its cinematic rhythm. These sparse moments of levity disrupt the metronomic pace of its relentless soundtrack and diminish the intensity of its argumentative conversations.
When the film reaches its final climactic stretch, Lelio halts his musical conventions. Converging its dazzling spectacle into a solemn requiem for his cinematic sisterhood, “The Wave“ breaks its rhapsodic veneer to bring home the ugly truth about the aftermath of the Feminist May protests. Within the confines of a patriarchal legal system, true justice for sexual assault survivors remains an enigma. In the face of scorching social scrutiny that relentlessly deteriorates her own privacy, Julia ultimately heals through the companionship of her peers. After the relentless antagonism that scrutinized her acts of defiance against the power structures of her society, Lelio proposes that as long as there is true solidarity amongst ourselves, there is a chance to rehabilitate from our collective trauma.
