Maite Alberdi
El lugar de la otra

The title of this film, released in September 2024, can be translated as The Other's Apartment, and it is based on events that occurred in Chile in the '50s. It fits into the contemporary landscape overflowing with films with female protagonists, but with a slight difference. Unlike the vast majority of films that present stereotypical figures of strong, arrogant women who are always right or at least oppressed by a violent “patriarchy,” Mercedes, our protagonist, is “just” an introverted secretary frustrated by domestic monotony: a selfish husband who doesn't even leave her a cookie for breakfast, equally indifferent children, a small, dark, and messy apartment, and piles of dirty dishes in the kitchen.

The opportunity to escape this swamp arises when her boss, a judge, starts handling the case of Maria Carolina Geel, a writer accused of shooting her lover in a luxury hotel. Mercedes discovers that, besides being a murderer, Maria owns a dream apartment: large, elegant, filled with refined objects—and above all—free of male presence. Between a hot bath and a borrowed dress, Mercedes immerses herself in this foreign and seemingly perfect world, completely ignoring the toxic side of her new muse: a cold, manipulative, and contemptuous woman.

On a social level, the film suggests that while Mercedes battles cold water and a husband with the sensitivity of a worn-out slipper, Maria floats in a dimension filled with rich and powerful friends, ready to save her even if she committed premeditated murder. For her, justice is a flexible concept: sentenced to only 514 days in prison, she won't even serve them, obtaining a presidential pardon at the request of Nobel laureate poet Gabriela Mistral.

The epilogue leaves a bitter taste: the murderer Maria calmly returns to her bohemian life and Mercedes to her dirty dishes. Transcending gender issues, the ironic “moral” could be that if you must commit a crime, do it in a luxury place, with witnesses and a great wardrobe. The poor can keep their integrity; the rich have a Nobel laureates list ready to save them.

A special mention goes to the cinematography, scenes, and costumes, which are very well-crafted and fitting in presenting Mercedes's world as dark, sad, and worn out, and Maria's as opulent, bright, and elegant. Directed by Maite Alberdi, known (to fewer) for being the first Chilean Oscar nominee in 2021, as much as it may be relevant, given that the Academy has recently thrown its doors wide open to ladies.