El Cafè De La Marina

cafe de la marina 1

Hear Catalonia and you might think sun, sand and sangria. Sylvia Munt’s drama basks in few such pleasures. There may be plenty of time spent by the bottle but her adaptation of Josep Maria de Sagarra’s classic tale is as sobering as a face full of sea water.

EL CAFÈ DE LA MARINA, in some ways, is a story after the act. Caterina (Marina Salas) has been tarred by small-town gossip for a passing romance outside of wedlock. The old men of her bar chide from behind their rums, and her father stares above and away from her daily sorrows. All appears to rest on the thin and fading chances of marriage. Or so it initially appears. A travelling French merchant sets his heart on the young barmaid, but the most earnest offer may come from Claudi (Pablo Derqui), the sarcastic fisherman, watching from afar.

a mournful haze descends on our protagonists’ hopes and dreams…

Although an of-the-day journalist and translator, as a novelist and playwright Josep Maria de Sagarra is best described as a traditionalist. His 1934 text EL CAFÈ DE LA MARINA aligns much more closely, for British eyes, to the Victorians – Hardy or the Brontës – than his modernist contemporaries. Caterina is a bold, true-hearted woman to whom misfortune has fallen, and as in all Victorian tales, her labours amid the puritan small town society prove hard and frequently painful. Pleasure, poetically realised, is only briefly glimpsed; calm harbours from the storm found in sisterhood and, eventually, love.

Originally a TV movie, Munt’s direction ploughs with workmanlike furrow – fitting for the subject matter. The camera labours through dust swept visuals, stopping to take in forlorn stares and the sombre earthiness of the scenery. Caterina’s grey overalls sink down into the grey walls, grey tables and the grey sea (and this is summer – winter, as a cafè regular comments, is worse than mundane) and a mournful haze descends on our protagonists’ hopes and dreams.

EL CAFÉ DE LA MARINA’s tired and dolent mood flourishes in these barren surroundings, restrained theatrics creating a heartfelt tale with sturdy emotional pathos.

THE MARINA CAFE screens on 11 September at 20 at the Light Cinema.

httpvh://youtu.be/i5AOUjkeFa0