"I don't Want to Talk About It" ("De Eso No Se Habla") A film review by Linda Lopez McAlister on "The Women's Show" WMNF-FM (88.5), Tampa, FL November 5, 1994 Yesterday the 1994 Cine World Film Festival, sponsored by the Sarasota Film Society, opened at the Burns Court Cinema in Sarasota with two outstanding films by women directors. I was unable to get there early enough to see "El Crimen de Cuenca" ("The Crime of Cuenca") by Spanish filmmaker Pilar Miro, but Women's Show colleague and film aficianada Mary Glenney did see it and was very impressed; she recommends that you try to catch the repeat showing at 2:00 this afternoon. Dorothy and I got there for the early evening showing of Argentine director Maria Luisa Bemberg's "I Don't Want to Talk About It" ("De Eso No Se Habla"). Up until now I've only seen one of Bemberg's films (a fascinating biography of the 17th C. Mexican nun Sor Juana de la Cruz called "Yo, la mas pobre de todas" ("I, the poorest of all women") that was playing in Havana when I was there in 1991), although another one "Camila" was nominated for an Academy Award in the foreign film category in the mid-1980s. Bemberg is something of a late bloomer. Only after she had raised an upper-class Argentinian family and then divorced her husband did she embark on a career as a filmmaker. That takes courage and "I Don't Want to Talk about It" is a film about courage; it is dedicated "to all the people who have the courage to be different in order to be themselves." It takes place in the 1920s and '30s in a small Argentine coastal town. A prosperous young widow, Leonor (Luisina Brando) realizes that her little daughter Carlotita (Alejandra Podesta) is a dwarf; through an act of sheer will she goes out in the dead of night and destroys a neighbor's ornamental garden statues of dwarfs and then has a book burning "Gulliver's Travels," "Tom Thumb," "Snow White and the Seven you-know-whats." When the priest tries to talk to her about this, she declares firmly and with finality "I don't want to talk about it." And she doesn't--ever. She does everything in her power to ignore Carlotita's deformity, willfully declaring her incomprehension when anyone tries to bring up the subject; suffering enormous pain when something happens that calls attention to it; and, as we find out, going to great len gths to prevent Carlota from ever coming into contact with anyone else like her, either in books or in reality. By the time Carlotita is a teenager she's, bright, well- educated, good-natured, loving, unashamed of her difference--and just a tiny bit willful, insisting on calling herself Charlotte in stead of Carlotita and disobeying her mother's wishes that she downplay her size and shape. To this town has come a man in his seventies--a suave, handsome, wealthy, urbane, courtly bachelor Don Ludovico D'Andrea (Marcello Mastroiano) who befriends mother and daughter, and who, brings Charlotte her dream birthday gift, a beautiful white stallion to ride. One day when Leonor urges him to peek through a window to see Charlotte's joy as she rides the horse in an indoor ring, Ludovico is overcome by a passionate desire for Charlotte, a desire so taboo-ridden that it, at first, sends him into a severe decline and later forces him to leave town temporarily until he gets up the courage to return and seek her hand in marriage. But even then we're not through with these characters making courageous efforts to live their lives as they are, regardless of how different from the norm that is. The way the story works itself out, culminating in Charlotte's courageous decision to be herself is moving and important. This fable is brought to the screen with both intensity and good humor by a mature and wise filmmaker very much in command of her medium. It will be shown again on Sunday afternoon at 2:30. I really recommend it. (But be sure to call the festival before you go--(813)388-2441--to make sure there are still tickets available. For the WMNF Women's Show this has been Linda Lopez McAlister on Women and Film.