Ladies talk smack and make fake fruit from paper mache in the titular establishment, go on a picnic, and swim.
Almost entirely comprised of close up shots, the film revels in texture, color, and the rhythms of handcraft, while juicy, biting and sex-centric gossip fills out the soundtrack. Through these images and sounds, Strand masterfully conjures a lived, sensuous atmosphere of work and play.
The film's sexual politics are sly and blossom organically, concluding with a minor key but lingering one-two punch at the end, an offhand comment from the male Anglo boss about wanting to make a quick buck, and some onscreen text about his Mexican wife taking over the factory and becoming a rich woman.
I really enjoyed…