Memory + Image

Back in 2005, I came across an intriguing Mexican film called Sangre by Amat Escalante. Even though there were plenty of wonderful moments and memorable images in the film, I had mixed overall feelings because I found a few segments frustrating. Still, I could never forget the images I saw in Sangre and one of my favourite sequences in the film takes place when the main character Diego finds his small car against a giant mound of garbage. As the camera draws back, the full scale of the mountain of garbage is made apparent. But Diego is not concerned with the mountain of garbage to his left. Instead his eyes are further ahead because he needs to search for something in another mountain of garbage. The difficulty of his task is made apparent while one can't help but think of the sheer wastage that humans are leaving behind, as the garbage dump is only one of millions that exist throughout the planet.

When I had seen Sangre I had not seen anything by Carlos Reygadas. Now having seen all of the three features Reygadas has directed, I have a better appreciation of what Escalante attempted with Sangre. Escalante was an assistant director on Reygadas' Battle in Heaven and Reygadas was a producer on Sangre. As a result, there are plenty of similarities between Sangre & Battle in Heaven, like the usage of unprofessional actors to depict the everyday mundane lives of ordinary characters and awkward sex scenes featuring people with non-model like bodies, aspects which one rarely finds in films. In fact, Sangre makes for a worthy double bill along with Battle in Heaven because the two films compliment each other so well.

I still have not seen Escalante's second feature Los bastardos but it is high on my list of films to watch. And both Escalante & Reygadas have short features in Revolución, a film that recently showed at the Berlin Film Festival. The other directors who contributed segments in Revolución are Gael García Bernal, Diego Luna, Rodrigo García, Mariana Chenillo, Fernando Eimbcke, Gerardo Naranjo, Rodrigo Plá and Patricia Riggen. Definitely, Revolución is one film to look out for.

Mexican Cinema

Alfonso Cuarón director: Remember what Claude Chabrol said: ‘There is no wave, there is only the ocean.’ I am not purely interested in ‘Mexican cinema’, I am interested in cinema. And when you start using these words like ‘wave’, it’s a way of creating an identity for certain films, but it also becomes an aspect of marketing. You know, the common identity of the films people are describing as part of this ‘Mexican wave’ is that they are cinema. And that is the reason these films are seen everywhere and why they have been embraced everywhere. But people are also disregarding Mexican film-makers who have been making films for the last thirty years - people like Arturo Ripstein. You have to remember that there have been lots of Mexican film directors, but that doesn’t make a ‘wave’ - it’s not as if we have all shared a particular aesthetic. Quote 1

When I stumbled across three Mexican films, Amores Perros, Y tu mamá también and The Devil’s Backbone, in quick succession sometime in 2001, I never considered the films as part of a “New Wave of Mexican Cinema”. The trio were completely different films that just happened to come out of Mexico. But I can imagine that it was a convenient tag to help classify things. For example, recently after three films from Romania (The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, 12:08 East of Bucharest & 4 Months 3 Weeks 2 Days) made a splash on the film festival circuit in successive years, the media immediately called it the “New Romanian wave”. Three films is still too early to label a movement, plus there is no reason to believe the Romanian film directors were collaborating together for a conscious movement. Even though Alfonso Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro and Alejandro González Iñárritu are friends who have either helped edit or given helpful suggestions to each other's works, they are still three independent directors who are making high quality cinema yet they were/are lumped together under one label.

Hugo Rodriguez director: Let’s not forget that Mexico has a long film-making tradition, which started almost at the same time as the international film industry was born. We have films that date back to the early 1900s, and the historical relationship with Hollywood has meant that our technicians are highly trained. Quote 2

Thankfully old Mexican films are being made available in North America via new DVD releases and it will certainly help in getting a feel for Mexico’s rich cinematic history.

But taking a look from the early days of Mexican cinema...

1) The 1930's plus the Revolution period

Fernando de Fuentes began his career as a cinema manager, and would later use his experience in this regard to challenge the existing exhibition monopoly of the 1940s. He became arguably the most important figure in the Mexican cinema of the 1930s because his trilogy of films about the Revolution: El prisionere trece (1933), El compadre Mendoza (1933) and Vamonos con Pancho Villa (1934). Quote 3

I have only seen El compadre Mendoza of Fernando de Fuentes’s works and it is an engaging film that beautifully integrates a friendship tale with the complicated dynamics of a revolution. In a way, the talk of revolution is deeply associated with the image of Mexico. Even a film like Ocean’s Thirteen couldn’t resist stoking the fire of revolution in a Mexican setting. In a humorous segment of Ocean’s Thirteen, the ‘twins’ are sent to a Mexican dice making plant but they end up stirring things up over Tequila and talk of Zapata resulting in the workers shutting the plant down.

2) The Golden Age of Mexican Cinema or ‘El Cine de Oro’ -- 1940’s through to 60’s

Luis Buñuel’s Mexican films fall within this time period as well.

Emerging at the tail end of ‘Cine de Oro’ period, the director [Buñuel] arguably provides a lineage with the subsequent ‘Grupo Nuevo Cine’, and - through his unsentimental consideration of themes of poverty and social injustice, allied with his formal experimentation and ability to work creatively with limited resources -- to the prominent Mexican directors who would emerge on the cusp of the twenty-first century. Quote 4

3) The Re-emergence plus ties with Hollywood

Mexican cinema seems to have suffered in the late 1970’s and early 80’s. But near the end of the 80’s and start of the 1990's, Mexican cinema regained its footing with renewed vigor.

After years of drought, the early 1990s witnessed the feature-film debuts of several directors who would thereafter become international names. A new generation was on the brink of making itself heard, and these directors were conscious that something of a break from the past would be necessary if they were to assert their own identities. Quote 5

Some of the more famous directors whose names are associated with the re-emergence in the early 1990’s are Carlos Carrera, Alfonso Cuarón and Alfonso Arau.

Alfonso Arau’s Like Water for Chocolate (Como agua para chocolate) made international headlines and also gave Mexican culture plenty of attention as well considering the story focuses on the richness of Mexican food. In fact, Like Water for Chocolate was probably the first Mexican film I ever saw in my life. I had enjoyed reading the sensual novel and was drawn to the film to see how much of the passion could be recreated. After gaining success on the home front, Arau next ventured to Hollywood for A Walk in the Clouds.

The geographical closeness to America certainly enabled a lot of movement between Mexican cinema and Hollywood for some directors. Even though Alfonso Cuarón made his cinematic start with the Mexican film Love in the Time of Hysteria, he moved across the border to direct The Little Princess and Great Expectations. I first caught up with Cuarón's work with the visually imaginative Great Expectations, a film that I lined up to see on opening day back in January 1998. The film was a bit of a let down but the soundtrack was mesmerizing and the visuals completely alluring.

Guillermo del Toro has also moved successfully back and worth between Mexico and USA. It appears that after making a commercial Hollywood film, he returns back to Mexico to create a powerful Spanish language film. After making his feature film debut with Cronos in 1993 he ventured to Hollywood with Mimic before returning for The Devil’s Backbone followed by enjoyable comic book ventures in Blade 2 and Hellboy before his award winning Pan’s Labyrinth. And this year, del Toro was behind the second installment of Hellboy II: The Golden Army

And then there is the case of Robert Rodriguez. Born in the U.S, he traveled to Mexico to shoot his now famous El Mariachi on a shoe-string budget before returning to Hollywood for a sequel of sorts with the stunning Desperado. And the Antonio Banderas guitar swinging gun fighting film also introduced North American audiences to the seductive Salma Hayek. Rodriguez has been prominent in Hollywood since 1995 but he did pay a brief ode to Mexico in 2003 with the final chapter in his Mariachi trilogy Once Upon a Time in Mexico, a film with some charm but still in need for more chopping.

The Mexican tie with Hollywood certainly got more attention in 2007 when the films Children of Men (Alfonso Cuarón), Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro ) and Babel (Alejandro González Iñárritu) were earning spots in critics year end best film lists.

4) 2000 onwards: New faces and new visions

Carlos Reygadas arrived on the international film festival circuit with his visually stunning Japon in 2002. Reygadas has certainly added a different flavour to the vision of Mexico from that presented by Cuarón, Guillermo del Toro and Alejandro González Iñárritu. Reygadas has shown a different side of Mexico in his films, like featuring the peaceful countryside in Japon, the rich Mexican suburbs in Battle in Heaven or a German Mennonite community in Silent Light. Carlos also has had a prominent influence on Amat Escalante and helped produce Escalante’s debut film Sangre in 2005. I came across Sangre at the London Film Festival back in 2005 and unfortunately I happened to see the film at the wrong time in my cinematic journey. While I loved some sequences of Sangre (some scenes that have still stayed with me, like the shot of the garbage landfill), I was not that impressed with the film. Now, after having seen Reygadas’ Battle in Heaven I can fully appreciate Sangre as both films form a worthy double bill and present a fresh look into Mexican life from the eyes of characters who would hardly grace the camera of most film productions.

While talking about Iñárritu’s three features, one can’t ignore the writing talents of Guillermo Arriaga. It is unfortunate to read that Iñárritu and Arriaga won’t collaborate on further films but Arriaga’s writing style manages to beautifully capture the essence of Mexican life. I have enjoyed reading his two novels A Sweet Smell of Death and The Night Buffalo while Arriaga’s moving script for The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada captures the tender complications of moving across the US border to start a new life.

Some other interesting Mexican films that I have seen in the last two years such as Used Parts (Aarón Fernández Lesur), Drama/Mex (Gerardo Naranjo) and Bad Habits (Simón Bross) suggest that there is indeed a positive future for Mexican films, beyond the works of the well known directors.

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Films chosen as part of Spotlight

I wanted to pick a film from each major time period of Mexico’s cinematic journey and in that regard I came across the following five titles:

The Woman of the Port (1934, Arcady Boytler/Raphael J. Sevilla): 7.5/10
Aventurera (1950, Alberto Gout): 7/10
A Woman Without love (1952, Luis Buñuel): 8/10
The Skeleton of Mrs. Morales (1960, Rogelio A. González): 9/10
No One Writes to the Colonel (1999, Arturo Ripstein): 6/10

Instead of picking the well known Mexican films by Buñuel, I opted for A Woman Without Love. While the love affair story may not be that ground breaking but Buñuel’s direction ensures that the film does not become too melodramatic and instead conveys a compassionate tale of sacrifices that true love has to endure.

Both the leading women in The Woman of the Port and Aventurera find themselves forced into prostitution due to circumstances. In The Woman of the Port, Rosia turns to the trade after her cheating lover kills her father. But the film saves a nasty twist in the end, something that sheds an even darker light on an already tragic tale. In Aventurera, Elena is forced into prostitution after her dreams of a better life in the big city are shattered by a trusted family friend. But Elena discovers her inner strength and is able to extract revenge, albeit by playing an emotional game of chess.

The most disappointing film turned out to be Arturo Ripstein’s No One Writes to the Colonel, a film based on Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s novel. On the flip-side, the true gem of the lot turned out to be The Skeleton of Mrs. Morales, a wicked dark comedy with a delicious twist in the end. The film features plenty of imaginative camera angles, combined with a very witty story that does not shy from dragging its characters through the mud.

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Reference for all quotes used: The Faber book of Mexican cinema by Jason Wood.

Carlos Reygadas Films

Snapshots of Three Films by Mexican director Carlos Reygadas

Japón

"Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy. Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

Japón follows the main character’s quest to end his life. A painter heads to the Mexican landscape to put an end to his suffering. But along the way, he finds meaning to his life. Simple things can change a person’s view of the world and sometimes the boundless beauty of nature can go a long way towards curing a tormented soul. Unfortunately, the ironic nature of life does surface in the film. When the painter has no reason to live, he cannot kill himself. But when he finally finds hope and reason in life, that reason is taken away in a swift instance. Although after making such a long journey, we can be sure that he will continue to live after the film ends because he has found an inner desire to continue, an inner desire not motivated by external triggers.

Battle in Heaven

Marcos leads a simple life filled with routines. Some of these routines revolve around him and his wife selling clocks and some food by an underground walkway. Tick tock. But in order to improve their daily lives, the two of them kidnap a child for ransom. However, something goes wrong and the child dies. Tick tock.

Marcos’s second job is as a driver and he is assigned to drive around a general’s young daughter Ana. Despite being rich, Ana derives pleasure by working in an upscale brothel. She sends one of her colleagues to service Marcos. But Marcos only wants Ana and fantasizes about her. Ana makes it clear that she wants nothing to do with Marcos sexually.

Tick tock. Confession. Sin. Repentance. Inner Struggle.

Silent Light

A quiet German Mennonite community in Mexico. A perfect family. Well, almost perfect. Johan, the father and husband, is having an affair with Marianne that is tearing him apart. Everyone knows about it. Even the mechanic to whom Johan takes his car cautions him about Marianne. Johan tried to leave Marianne but cannot help going back. Johan even goes to his father for advice. Johan’s wife Esther believed that Johan had finally left Marianne but when she learns that he has started visiting Marianne again, she cannot take it anymore.

Johan has to make a decision but then nature helps him out.

Lasting Images:

The lasting images from Japón revolve around the 360 degree camera sequence at the film’s end. The camera freely spins around the surroundings allowing only a tiny fraction of the events to come into view before finally focusing on the tragedy in front of us. Even if the film ends in tragedy, it arrives at that fateful realization by following a beautiful path that evaporates any meaning of loss.

There is also a 360 degree camera sequence in Battle in Heaven as well but it does not have the poetic or emotional impact as the one from Japón. However, one memorable take arrives immediately following the 360 degree camera sequence in Reygadas’s second feature. Prior to the sequence, Ana is on top of Marcos, thrusting back and forth. The camera starts off in Ana’s dreadlocked hair but gradually moves sideways, looking at the sexual act from outside the window. Just before the camera starts moving to the left, Ana looks towards the camera (note: I am not sure if that is a mistake or an intended gesture on Reygadas’s behalf? Ana face the audience!). The camera then leaves the room and slowly moves around the neighbouring buildings before returning back to the room where Ana has finished her bouncy gyrations. As the camera moves towards them, it looks at the naked bodies of Marcos and Ana first from above, then from the floor showing their feet before slowly moving upwards towards the ceiling. There is something picturesque about this long take, watching the big round body of Marcos lying next to tiny Ana. Marcos is taking up most of the bed space and holding hands tenderly with Ana. The background music starts just as the camera makes its movement towards the ceiling and the music has echoes of a triumphant victory, a final salute of sorts. Has Marcos achieved greatness by sleeping with the beautiful Ana? Is the sequence real or another of Marcos’ fantasies? The 360 degree camera spin makes me think that this sexual act is real. And that image of Marcos looking at the ceiling with Ana sprawled on the bed besides him with closed eyes is just vintage stuff.

The best cinematic sequences in Silent Light open and close the film. The film starts off in darkness, looking at the boundless starry night sky. Slowly, night gives way to dawn and the sun rays paint the Mexican landscape with a radiant beauty. The film ends with this sequence in reverse, where the sun sets to usher in darkness.

Awkward but real:

Both Japón & Battle of Heaven contain sex scenes which will not feature in any American or European film because of the physical attributes of the mating couple. In Japón, the painter engages in sex with a much older woman. He proposes his intentions to her and then what follows is quite a realistic and a very un-sexual sexual scene – there is no enticement but a mechanical nature to the whole act.

The realistic sex scene in Battle of Heaven features Marcos thrusting his wife from behind. Now, both Marcos and his wife are big people and one never sees a sexual act between large people on cinema.

However, we are not shown any nudity during the sex scene between Johan and Marianne in Silent Light. Since the couple constitutes the normal cinematic portrayal of sexual acts, Reygadas is not interested in showing their naked flesh. Although the sex scene between Ana and Marcos in Battle in Heaven is shown in stark detail as well, a bit too much detail. But then again, the fornication between the two does not constitute a cinematic norm either.

Symmetry:

Even though Battle in Heaven starts and ends with a similar sequence of Ana giving oral pleasure to Marcos, there is a subtle difference in between the opening and closing sequences. Marcos is not wearing his glasses in the final sequence which hints that the sequence is not taking place within the realms of the film’s realistic boundaries and might actually be happening in heaven. Maybe there is peace in heaven after all for Marcos!

Silent Light opens with a transition from night to day, and ends in reverse order, light to dark. Fade to Black indeed.

Fascinating titles:

Why should a Mexican film shot entirely in the Mexican countryside be called Japón? A clue is provided halfway through the film when the painter shows his collection of paintings to the older woman. Also, his need to commit suicide might be a nod towards the ritualistic Japanese suicide hara-kiri.

Battle in Heaven: Don’t most cultures mention that there will be peace in heaven? Hmm. Apparently, they have not met Marcos.

Silent Light: At the quantum level, a light particle is anything but silent. But we do not analyze elementary particles consciously everytime we admire beauty. And the film shows the beauty of light, which can quietly envelop a surrounding or quietly remove the ability to see things. Let there be light! Let there be darkness!

Mexico standing in for the world:

All three Carlos Reygadas films are firmly rooted in Mexico as they feature characters who live and breathe within Mexico. Yet, the character’s suffering is universal.

Japón -- the painter is tired of the chaotic city life and seeks peace.
Battle in Heaven -- Marcos is torn by guilt and lust.
Silent Light -- Johan longs for another woman and realizes that he has never truly loved his wife. But he has to suffer because he cannot just pick up and leave.

Universal themes distilled via Mexican landscapes.

I certainly cannot wait to see what else Reygadas serves up in the future.

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Ratings out of 10:

Silent Light: 10

Battle in Heaven: 8.5

Japón: 8

October Film Wrap-up

October was supposed to be a relaxed month in terms of film viewing after all the film festival movies that I saw between Sept 20-Oct 4. But as it turned out, the third week of October ended up being pretty crazy in terms of film viewings -- 15 movies in 5 days with 7 movies watched in one day. I certainly had no intentions of putting myself through this ordeal but things ended up that way. While I talked about some of those 15 movies in previous posts, the following six were left out.

The Son (2002, Belgium/France, Directors Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne): Rating 9.5/10

Fists in the Pocket (1965, Italy, Director Marco Bellocchio): Rating 8.5/10

Japón (2002, Mexico/Germany/Netherlands/Spain, Director Carlos Reygadas): Rating 8/10

Chocolat (1988, France/West Germany/Cameroon, Director Claire Denis): Rating 8/10

Transylvania (2006, France, Director Tony Gatlif): Rating 7.5/10

Electra, My Love (1970, Hungary, Director Miklós Jancsó)

Revenge and pain: There is something so simple but brilliant about the Dardenne brothers films. The verite style allows one to focus on only the relevant details and shut everything else out. The Son is another highly infectious movie to watch, although the topic of revenge is handled quite differently from other films.

Family problems: Fists in the Pocket is Marco Bellocchio's dark and un-relentless film which looks at the complicated relationships within a religious Italian family. It is not a surprize that this film caused such a sensation in Italy back in 1965 because the movie shows absolute cruelty and no remorse in how a man plots to kill his family. But the movie is not just about murder but includes topics of incest and religious defiance. And to think this was Bellocchio's debut feature!

A Journey:

Carlos Reygadas's Japón is a simple tale of a man's journey across the Mexican landscape. The man is tired of the city life and just wants to escape the noise and chaos. But he finds that he still can't shut off his desires despite being away from civilization. The best thing about this movie is the imaginative camera angles, especially during the final sequence when the camera slowly turns around 360 degrees and allows us to fully soak in every surrounding detail.

I have a huge admiration for Tony Gatlif and his depiction of journey tales spiced with gypsy music. Both Exils (2004) and Gadjo dilo (1997) were such movies and as it turns out even Transylvania contains such elements. In fact, both Transylvania and Gadjo dilo have a lot in common. In Gadjo dilo, Stéphane (Romain Duris) heads to Romania to track a gypsy singer he once heard on a cassette. In Transylvania, a pregnant woman (Zingarina played by Asia Argento) heads to Romania as well to find a gypsy singer who is the father of her child. In both films, the main characters find themselves enchanted with the Romanian way of life and find happiness only when they give themselves up fully to a different culture.

Exile in Africa: I do believe that some movies lose their luster when viewed in a different decade than when they were made. Claire Denis's Chocolat is a decent movie but watching it in 2007 hardly has any impact as opposed to maybe watching it back in 1988. The movie is set in Cameroon on the eve of World War II and shows the daily relations and tensions between the French and the local Africans. The movie handles some issues in a very careful and subtle manner, especially regarding the inter-racial sexual tension and the brewing revolution. There are plenty of beautiful camera movements but over the years plenty of movies have depicted Africa in a better manner.

A staged greek play: I was really eager to watch Miklós Jancsó's Electra, My Love. But unfortunately, I didn't enjoy this Greek tragedy too much. Even though the sets are impressive and certain aspects of how the camera freely flows from one set of characters to another are interesting, I was not a fan of this effort.