Roma (2018)

As a director, writer, producer -- and sometimes documentarian -- Alfonso Cuarón seems like he's been a fixture of the cinema for years. Indeed, it's surprising to realize he's only directed eight films since his 1991 debut, "Solo con Tu Pareja." This is possibly because his last three --"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," "Children of Men," and "Gravity" -- all in one way or another became an immediate part of the pop culture firmament, earning accolades or box office glory or supplying the world with a prescient look at humanity, technology, and the magic in between -- the magic of creation, if nothing else.

But even for a constant inventor and fearless experimenter, his latest, "Roma" is something special, something unique -- an intimate, even sometimes slight drama given poetry and emotional resonance as it's projected against the backdrop of not just Mexican history, but his own. Shot in black and white, starring a nonprofessional actress, and set in a time and place seldom explored in mainstream cinema -- that is, until a filmmaker like Cuarón has the personal investment, and perhaps more importantly, the authority to shine a light upon it -- "Roma" tells a deeply humane, enchanting story that easily ranks among the best and most indelible of 2018.