This slow but involving human drama takes Argentina's recent economic meltdown as its prompt. Cama Adentro means 'live-in maid': Jorge Gaggero's sensitive film pursues the deep but uneasy relationship between the genteel, newly-impoverished Beba (Norma Aleandro) and Dora (Norma Argentina), the servant with whom she's shared her Buenos Aires apartment for almost 30 years.
Sudden lack of money has flipped the pair's dependency. Unable to pay her maid for several months, lonely, prideful Beba stands to lose the only reliable company she's known (her daughter, like her husband, has previously departed - alienated, we're left to assume, by Beba's haughtiness). Dora, meanwhile, must decide whether to stay and assist her unravelling employer, or take her chances in an economy with fewer and fewer jobs.
What could have become gooey and trite in the hands of a lesser director is instead rendered plausibly complex: the women struggle to preserve their dignity in straitened circumstances, and to forge a new accord based on mutuality rather than compulsion. Both Beba and Dora are endearingly flawed - the former supercilious and unyielding, the latter torn between contempt and sympathy for her former boss. Argentina is gruffly impressive as the emotionally-contained maid, while Aleandro's monstrous but piteous snob is an equally sharp portrayal. In Gaggero's measured telling, the pair's not-quite-friendship rings all the more true for being revealed with unsentimental compassion.
Sudden lack of money has flipped the pair's dependency. Unable to pay her maid for several months, lonely, prideful Beba stands to lose the only reliable company she's known (her daughter, like her husband, has previously departed - alienated, we're left to assume, by Beba's haughtiness). Dora, meanwhile, must decide whether to stay and assist her unravelling employer, or take her chances in an economy with fewer and fewer jobs.
What could have become gooey and trite in the hands of a lesser director is instead rendered plausibly complex: the women struggle to preserve their dignity in straitened circumstances, and to forge a new accord based on mutuality rather than compulsion. Both Beba and Dora are endearingly flawed - the former supercilious and unyielding, the latter torn between contempt and sympathy for her former boss. Argentina is gruffly impressive as the emotionally-contained maid, while Aleandro's monstrous but piteous snob is an equally sharp portrayal. In Gaggero's measured telling, the pair's not-quite-friendship rings all the more true for being revealed with unsentimental compassion.