Ana Garcia has grown up in a hooter-hating home. Her mom, Carmen (Lupe Ontiveros), holds them up—literally—as proof of Ana's worthlessness. And it's not just Ana's breasts; Carmen demeans her daughter's body incessantly; Ana (America Ferrera) is, Mom says, “as big as a cake.” So when awestruck Jimmy (Brian Sites), on his first date with Ana, ogles her ample bounty, you can see the revelation in Ana's eyes. She's incredulous that anyone would want to look at her breasts, let alone admire them.
This blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment is at the heart of Patricia Cardoso's charming independent film. Rather than hide women's supposed sins (aspirations toward a career and chunky bodies are the most cardinal) behind shame, Real Women argues that females should embrace their physical and mental curves.
The plot is simple without being clichéd. Ana is a talented student who wishes to transcend the life of her immigrant parents. But there's reality to deal with: her sister needs extra workers at her downtown LA sweatshop, and her mother wants Ana to follow her own narrow career path—she's a God-fearing, shamed-about-sexuality mother of two with no ambition greater than the production of babies.
“I can educate her,” Carmen pleads to her husband when Ana announces she wants to go to Columbia University. “I can teach her how to sew, raise children, take care of her husband. They don't teach those things at college.”
Over the course of a summer, an unwilling Ana confronts open antagonism at home and the sweatshop. She plots her escape, secretly applying to college and, in the film's climax, leading a sweatshop revolution: when Ana strips down to her unmentionables to reveal her supposed imperfections, every woman in the sweatshop follows suit. Ther follows a general celebration of the natural female form—except Carmen, who walks away shocked and ashamed.
For a female-empowerment film, it's refreshing that Real Women isn't excessively pedantic, nor does it blame men for women's woes. Indeed, the men in Ana's life (teacher, boyfriend, relatives) are her most reliable supporters in the fight against Carmen. More bravely, the film shows that women can be women's worst enemies.
Ontiveros gives a fearless performance as Ana's mother, a study of suffering, whether real (every crag in Carmen's face shows 35 years of sewing nonstop and 500 years of patriarchy) or imagined (her insistence that she is pregnant instead of menopausal is a situation both pitiful and tragic). Carmen is a woman of few redeeming qualities. “It's because I love you,” she tells her ever-suffering eldest daughter, “that I make your life so miserable.” Yet, Ontiveros infuses Carmen with humanity; she's not a cardboard cut-out of everything retrograde in Latino culture. Ultimately, she's a victim of her own intense love.
Newcomer Ferrera, on the other hand, is all repressed radiance. Her expressive face communicates her impending liberation. It's only in the final scene—she is walking alone in New York—when she unleashes an authentic grin. Ana's uncertain of the future, that much is certain, but at least she has the courage to pursue it.
REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES WAS DIRECTED BY PATRICIA
CARDOSO; WRITTEN BY JOSEFINA LOPEZ AND GEORGE LAVOO; AND STARS AMERICA FERRERA, LUPE ONTIVEROS, INGRID OLIU AND BRIAN SITES. NOW PLAYING COUNTYWIDE.
