lo stile diNicolás Pereda è lo stesso di diversi registi centroamericani (dei quali ho visto almeno un film), c'è una base "documentaristica", su cui si innesta la storia.
è una scelta estetica interessante, immagino che sia per comunicare meglio con gli spettatori, per segnalare che i loro non sono i film di Hollywood, ma corpi e sudore e soprusi sono gli stessi della vita di tutti i giorni e tutti lo possono capire ed essere coinvolti.
i ritmi sono lenti, questo è un film dove si cammina a piedi, al massimo in autobus.
un film che merita, provateci - Ismaele
QUI il film completo in spagnolo
Es la historia de Vicente, un joven granjero que vive con su abuela en un pequeño pueblo. Cuando sus tíos vuelven de Estados Unidos y amenazan con vender el terreno de la abuela, él viaja a la Ciudad de México en busca de justicia. Allí se queda con su madre, a quien no ha visto desde niño. Tiene que enfrentar la realidad de no saber nada acerca de ella ni de un sistema de justicia que parece impenetrable.
Perhaps because he’s also Mexican, the name of Carlos Reygadas has been mentioned more than once — incorrectly — as the key influence on Pereda’s film, completed as his grad project at Toronto’s York U. film department. As with Lance Hammer’s Sundance prize-winning “Ballast,” films by the Dardenne brothers and Bresson are absorbed into pic’s fabric, along with some direct tips of the cap to Thailand’s Apichatpong Weerasethakul (including a 20-minute delay in the appearance of credits). Yet like many rising cineastes of his generation, Pereda adapts and molds these outside voices to fit his local circumstances.
The film begins on a note of misdirection: Vicente (Gabino Rodriguez), a young cattle wrangler in Zicatlan in Puebla state, appears to be waiting for his grandmother (Juana Rodriguez) to die. Instead, it’s just a momentary relapse from which the sturdy old gal soon recovers. But, anticipating her immediate demise, Vicente’s relatives have rushed back from their Stateside work to wrest ownership of her property. Pereda’s effective and ironic visual symbol for this is a fence the relatives erect around her home.
After lengthy sections devoted to Vicente’s rural life, pic suddenly shifts to Mexico City, where Vicente has thumbed a ride to find an attorney to defend his grandmother’s claim to her land. The complicated family situation reaches unexpected levels of tension, even dread, when Vicente stays in the home where his mother Teresa (Teresa Sanchez) works as a full-time maid.
Class conflicts burn just under the surface as Vicente is suspected of stealing a videocamera, lawyers look upon him with barely disguised bemusement and Teresa is asked to perform duties far beyond her pay grade.
Latter drama is staged with such restraint that inattentive viewers may miss it, but in fact is made more terrifying by the power of suggestion. Once he manages to lay out the narrative basics and no more, Pereda shows he’s a true student of Bresson, a trust in trusting the images and silences to convey his story’s concerns.
Making no extreme demands on his cast of theater-trained thesps and nonpros, Pereda elicits perfs in the same low key he imposes on his camera (Alejandro Coronado did the solid vid lensing). Gabino Rodriguez is especially good at suggesting the willpower of a humble guy who refuses to be pushed around.
Reportedly made in the ultra-low four figures, pic is a fine example of super-indie Latin American filmmaking combining aesthetic class with extremely limited resources.