To open with an establishing drone shot has become something of a cliché for lower-budget films looking to create a sense of scale inexpensively, but in Argentinian director Verónica Chen’s fifth narrative feature “,” the choice feels unusually apt. The camera glides frictionlessly over an opaque turquoise sea, breakers foaming at its edges, and into a darkened beachside forest in which sits a large, modern, architect-designed house.
The next day they part on friendly enough terms, though Weisman’s walk of shame is spotted by the workers: the grinning, insinuating younger Toto and the saturnine, limping Hueso . And simply knowing that Laura slept with their boss devalues her currency in some invisible way and emboldens them to behave increasingly insolently: neglecting the barbecue, using the indoor bathroom when she’s not there; drinking on her terrace; looking in through her windows while she sleeps.