I figure Rosetta to be a Nineties version of a Giulietta
Masina character from several decades ago: Gelsomina in La
Strada lived in circumstances limited by poverty, her low
social status as a "gypsy" of sorts, and being raised to
assume that a man will always be in authority over her.
Cabiria in Nights of Cabiria added a more aggressively
self-destructive touch, making herself into a woman who
believed she was in control because she allowed men to
hurt her.
In the time since Fellini's films, a lot of the hegemonics
of presumed male superiority have fallen into disuse, and
Rosetta, the title character played by Emilie Dequenne, is
seen as a waif enclosed in her own cloak of responsibility, for herself and her even more dysfunctional mother, and yet her appearance of independence is a liability too -- a mere compensation for
the fact that she lacks the social tools to reach out to
other people who might give her love and affirmation. These limits are suggested strongly by the camera technique, which hugs Rosetta rather closely about the
shoulders so we seldom see more than a few feet beyond her
face. This story is one of clinical pathology, without
pretending to analyze the complexity of how she got this
way. The choice of the name Rosetta apparently refers to the Rosetta Stone, a famed archaeological find whose inscriptions were a puzzle for many years, and yet eventually were decoded through logical, scientific methodology. Perhaps in a similar way Rosetta the woman's basic humanness is ultimately inscrutable; yet there is always a hope that a key to resolving her emotional conflicts will bring her closer to happiness.
There's a good deal of truth in her obsession with "getting a job" as a means of establishing who she is, not to mention earning an income in order to
survive. Everyone in the audience must see himself or herself in this quest for employment, and in the ignominy
of the lack of same. Rosetta apparently doesn't think of
identity as being unique, so much as it is being included
in what she assumes to be the normal life of people in the city around her. Ironically, it's the uniqueness of herself that she considers mundane, and from which she
can't break away.
Rosetta's search for a change of identity is also shown in certain rituals, such as leaving the trailer camp where she lives through a hole in the fence rather than the front gate, and changing into a pair of boots she has hidden outside the fence before venturing into town (the boot fetish may also be paying homage to Vladimir, one of the tramp characters in Beckett's existential masterpiece Waiting for Godot). Please don't think the film is riddled with blatant symbolism, however, because such apparently bizarre habits are no doubt symptoms of compulsive behavior among any number of people in real life. Rosetta's bleak outlook is assisted by the overcast weather conditions under which the film was shot. Apparently it's winter, another reason for depression, anxiety and introspection to become familiar visitors which any member of the audience can
recognize.
Rosetta, as played by Dequenne, is pretty yet clearly a
damaged person, who makes quick, believable transitions to the angry, violent side of her character: she gives us an attractive, interesting gamine type character, one of the
few points on which the filmmaker bows to commercial considerations. A version of this same story could just as easily be about a male character, yet, as soon as one gets used to the somewhat claustrophobic camera technique, the
viewer will concede that the choices that were made in
telling this story, for whatever reason, are compelling
and interesting.
Masina character from several decades ago: Gelsomina in La
Strada lived in circumstances limited by poverty, her low
social status as a "gypsy" of sorts, and being raised to
assume that a man will always be in authority over her.
Cabiria in Nights of Cabiria added a more aggressively
self-destructive touch, making herself into a woman who
believed she was in control because she allowed men to
hurt her.
In the time since Fellini's films, a lot of the hegemonics
of presumed male superiority have fallen into disuse, and
Rosetta, the title character played by Emilie Dequenne, is
seen as a waif enclosed in her own cloak of responsibility, for herself and her even more dysfunctional mother, and yet her appearance of independence is a liability too -- a mere compensation for
the fact that she lacks the social tools to reach out to
other people who might give her love and affirmation. These limits are suggested strongly by the camera technique, which hugs Rosetta rather closely about the
shoulders so we seldom see more than a few feet beyond her
face. This story is one of clinical pathology, without
pretending to analyze the complexity of how she got this
way. The choice of the name Rosetta apparently refers to the Rosetta Stone, a famed archaeological find whose inscriptions were a puzzle for many years, and yet eventually were decoded through logical, scientific methodology. Perhaps in a similar way Rosetta the woman's basic humanness is ultimately inscrutable; yet there is always a hope that a key to resolving her emotional conflicts will bring her closer to happiness.
There's a good deal of truth in her obsession with "getting a job" as a means of establishing who she is, not to mention earning an income in order to
survive. Everyone in the audience must see himself or herself in this quest for employment, and in the ignominy
of the lack of same. Rosetta apparently doesn't think of
identity as being unique, so much as it is being included
in what she assumes to be the normal life of people in the city around her. Ironically, it's the uniqueness of herself that she considers mundane, and from which she
can't break away.
Rosetta's search for a change of identity is also shown in certain rituals, such as leaving the trailer camp where she lives through a hole in the fence rather than the front gate, and changing into a pair of boots she has hidden outside the fence before venturing into town (the boot fetish may also be paying homage to Vladimir, one of the tramp characters in Beckett's existential masterpiece Waiting for Godot). Please don't think the film is riddled with blatant symbolism, however, because such apparently bizarre habits are no doubt symptoms of compulsive behavior among any number of people in real life. Rosetta's bleak outlook is assisted by the overcast weather conditions under which the film was shot. Apparently it's winter, another reason for depression, anxiety and introspection to become familiar visitors which any member of the audience can
recognize.
Rosetta, as played by Dequenne, is pretty yet clearly a
damaged person, who makes quick, believable transitions to the angry, violent side of her character: she gives us an attractive, interesting gamine type character, one of the
few points on which the filmmaker bows to commercial considerations. A version of this same story could just as easily be about a male character, yet, as soon as one gets used to the somewhat claustrophobic camera technique, the
viewer will concede that the choices that were made in
telling this story, for whatever reason, are compelling
and interesting.