Three generations uneasily coexist in Lullaby (Cinco lobitos), a Berlinale world premiere by Spanish director and screenwriter Alauda Ruiz de Azúa. She is well known for her award-winning shorts, including No me da la Vida (Life is Not Enough, 2021), which also deals with parents’ shared responsibilities for their children, and her sensitive, confident direction is evident In Lullaby, her debut feature.
Spain is a country that venerates the Virgin Mary as the immaculate mother, yet there is a rebellion underway that questions traditional gender roles. Lullaby brings us down to earth from the opening shot, when we witness Amaia (Laia Costa), who has just given birth, complaining of sore stitches and painful nipples as she breastfeeds her daughter. Her parents are there to help, but they are a bitter, bickering lot. Her mother Begoña is played convincingly by Susi Sánchez, who has acted in four Almodóvar films, including Julieta and Pain and Glory. Begoña is a bad-tempered, chain-smoking grandmother who only occasionally dotes on her grandchild. Her aging father, Koldo (Ramón Barea), is more affectionate, but he gets regularly scolded by his grumpy wife. The baby’s father, Javi (Mikel Bustamante) prefers to tour with his theater troupe rather than fulfill his share of parental duties. Amaia attempts to work from home, but is rudely interrupted by the baby wailing and her mother’s constant criticism. Welcome to no-frills parenting, Basque-style.
Ruiz de Azúa has a keen eye and ear for the little hints of jealousy and competition between adult daughters and their mothers. Who has suffered the most at childbirth? Which baby was more disobedient and prone to accidents? In these small details, a relationship is dissected as expertly as the fishmongers clean their fish on the Bay of Biscay.
Basque culture and language appear whenever the characters let their true feelings surface: when bidding goodbye, or singing a song of camaraderie. Showing emotions is seen as weakness, and a proud and stoic demeanor is expected of everyone. When the baby finally falls silent, we are rewarded with a sweet lullaby, “Cinco lobitos,” (Five Little Wolves), a tune sung across generations of Spanish mothers.
Lullaby has the ingredients to make us squirm, yet we find ourselves identifying with every small gesture or crisis, and feeling more compassion than condemnation for the family members’ travails. The director refers to “micro machismo” in an interview, and we are given some eloquent examples of these small acts of male entitlement in the film. The younger couple is about to fall into the same patterns of resentment as Amaia’s parents, and we are kept wondering until the very end whether they can break the mold.
Halfway through the film, the roles are reversed when Begoña falls ill and Amaia has to become her caretaker. They finally settle their reproaches, reveal past secrets, and find some measure of peaceful coexistence. It takes us ninety minutes to finally see an embrace between the two and it comes as a relief, as by then we have invested our own emotions in the narrative.
Ruiz de Azúa refuses to make moral judgments and her actors deliver believable, realistic performances that make the story resonate. While the pace could have been swifter, Lullaby is well worth the journey, and the film should see festival interest along with strong ratings when it premieres on Spanish public television RTVE in April.
Director and Screenplay: Alauda Ruiz de Azúa
Cast: Laia Costa, Susi Sánchez, Ramón Barea, Mikel Bustamante
Producer: Marisa Fernández Armenteros,
Cinematography: Jon D. Domínguez (A.E.C.)
Production design: Mónica Ausin Seoane
Costume design: Ana Martínez Fesser
Editing: Andrés Gil
Music: Aránzazu Calleja
Sound: Asier González
Production companies: Encanta Films, Sayaka Producciones, Buenapinta Media (Spain)
World sales: Latido Films
Venue: Berlin Film Festival (Panorama)
In Spanish, English, Basque
104 minutes
