A high-art gloss-coated trash treat, “The Attachment Diaries” gleefully weaves melodrama, noir, horror, and perversion into a morbid romance between two deeply wounded women. there is
The setting is 1970s Argentina. Karla (Ximena Anganucci), drenched in the rain and clearly destitute, arrives at the home of gynecologist Irina (Laura Berthe), who is in serious trouble. Ms. Kara, she claims she was gang-raped, is seeking an illegal abortion (she is, after all, her second), but her pregnancy is far too advanced. Instead, Irina offers to shelter Carla until her birth and then sell her child to a wealthy couple. Irina seems to have several of her lucrative side jobs. She also has her Ph.D. In chemistry, it would help when a woman’s medical condition hit the fan and her body fell to the floor.
Defined by a near-tactile tension between the debauchery of the script (directed by Valentin Javier Dimento) and the cool, understated elegance of Claudio Veisa’s cinematography, The Attachment Diaries pushes past its excesses. I take it very seriously and I can’t help but laugh. The women’s twisted histories and morbid behavior are gradually revealed, such as Carla’s dark experiments with decoupage, Irina’s skill at amputation, and Dimento’s farce. But the film’s taproot relentlessly springs from the deep pools of misandry and rape trauma that are common denominators that envelop women in a common cocoon of pain.
“The Attachment Diaries” is boring and nutty, melancholy and daring, and at the same time unfolds in its most serene black and white for the first hour or so. Then, just past the halfway point, the screen floods with a rich golden light, timing coinciding with Irina’s first experience of her sexual liberation. A psychopathic killer and a lover who shared their fates became one.
attachment diary
Unrated. Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 42 minutes. at the theater.
