MOTELX ’19: Jairo’s Revenge

Jairo Pinilla Tellez is a B-movie director, who has won the equivalent of Colombia’s Oscar for life achievement. That makes him sound like the Colombian Roger Corman, but Pinilla has been far less prolific. However, it wasn’t his fault. For years, Pinilla was essentially blackballed by the Colombian government’s film financing authority (FOCINE). That makes the production of a new Pinilla film quite an event. Simon Hernandez tries to capture the maestro at work in the documentary Jairo’s Revenge, which screens tomorrow as part of this year’s MOTELX, the Lisbon International Horror Film Festival.

Granted, Pinilla’s early films are somewhat rough around the edges, but they were big box office hits. Arguably, Pinilla was Colombia’s most successful native film director. Alas, he made a career-derailing mistake when he picked a fight with FOCINE. Not only did Pinilla find himself unable to work for years. He was also financially ruined and lost the rights to his own films.

Eventually, FOCINE was shut down and the Colombian cultural establishment started to recognize Pinilla as a trail-blazer. To complete his comeback, Pinilla sets out to make a new feature—his first in 3D and presumably his last, given his advancing years. Unfortunately, the genre auteur appears to be his worst enemy.

Initially, the behind-the-scenes drama Hernandez captures will not strike most viewers as being particularly earth-shaking. We get some entertainingly bonkers clips from his lurid filmography, but most of us would prefer a greatest hits package of wild film excerpts and off-the-wall anecdotes, in the tradition of Not Quite Hollywood or Corman’s World. Yet, things start to perk up dramatically after the first half hour, when Pinilla finds it impossible to keep a lead actress attached to the project, mostly because they are frustrated with him. Suddenly, Pinilla is arguing with everyone, especially Hernandez.

Pinilla’s production definitely runs way, way off the rails, which might sadden horror fans on an intellectual level, but there is no denying its entertainment value for voyeuristic gawking. Viewers will root for Pinilla, but we probably wouldn’t want to work with him.

After watching Jairo’s Revenge, the audience will have a greater appreciation for Pinilla’s grubby, underdog films. His career also tellingly illustrates the perils to free expression when the state plays a significant role funding arts and culture. Recommended for fans of idiosyncratic auteurist cult cinema, Jairo’s Revenge screens tomorrow (9/13), during MOTELX '19.

Nashville ’18: Virus Tropical

Paola’s father Uriel is an ex-priest and her mother Hilda is a fortune teller. They will move from Ecuador, a country with a good deal of political instability to Cali, Colombia, the home of the notorious cartel. It all sounds like a recipe for epic strife, but her teen angst is still largely the same universal stuff most everyone can recognize in Santiago Caicedo’s Virus Tropical (trailer here), an animated feature adaptation of the graphic novel written by Paola Gaviria (a.k.a. Powerpaola), which screens during the 2018 Nashville Film Festival.

Arguably, Paola is a miracle baby, somehow arriving after her mother’s tubal ligation. Apparently, it can happen, but almost never this soon. Regardless, Paola surprised everyone, especially her middle sister Patty, who resents losing her status as the baby of the family. For several years, Patty bullies Paola, while the oldest sister Claudia remains aloof, until a switch flips and Patty becomes Paola’s even more ferocious protector.

The truth is Paola will need a little looking after. When their parent’s marriage ruptures, in spirit if not in law, her mother’s long-nursed resentments make her a rather unstable parent. Of course, their father has disappeared off to Medellin, at the behest of is manipulative mother. Eventually, Paola and Hilda move to Cali to live with Patty, but their mother soon returns to Quito, leaving Paola in the care of her sister and a hippyish, Summerhill-esque academy, which was the only school that would accept her on short notice.

In a way, Virus Tropical is the anti-Little Women. Paola is a bit of a Jo March kind of figure (she sells nature drawings rather than stories), but instead of a caring, sheltering home, her family is a fractured mess. There is also way more peer pressure, sex, and drug use than in Alcott’s novel. Yet, it is surprising how low the stakes feel throughout VT, even though gunfire periodically erupts while Paola and her friends are clubbing. Of course, it was all critically important to Gaviria’s alter ego at the time—and we can partially relate to that.

Nevertheless, the film’s style trumps its narrative in each and every frame. The black-and-white animation, faithfully modeled on Powerpaola’s art is starkly dramatic, not unlike Persepolis, but looser and more sketch-like. It looks terrific, especially the stunning, almost baroque backdrops. However, the constant bickering between mother and daughters becomes wearisome, as do the weak nothings that are the male characters.

Still, Paola and Patty are appealing rooting interests, so it is rewarding to watch them get a handle on their lives. Plus, the animation is so distinctive, it largely carries the film. Definitely a film for adults, notwithstanding the youthful characters, Virus Tropical is recommended for animation connoisseurs who will appreciate its look and texture when it screens tomorrow (5/12) and Wednesday (5/16), as part of this year’s Nashville Film Festival.

The Damned: The Witch in Pandora’s Box

When you see a little girl in a horror movie, run for all your lungs are worth. Unfortunately, the Reynolds family does not realize they are in a fright flick. Sure, they are stranded in an old decrepit hotel in the middle of nowhere, but they are initially too preoccupied with their passive aggressiveness in Victor García’s The Damned (a.k.a. Gallows Hill, trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Following his wife’s death, David Reynolds’ relationship with his daughter Jill has been strained. She makes no secret of her lack of enthusiasm for his upcoming marriage to Lauren and receives plenty of encouragement for her petulant acting-out from her hot aspiring journalist Aunt Gina. Determined to drag her back to America for the wedding, the Reynolds must take a major detour to retrieve her passport, because roaming around Colombia without papers is such a good idea for international travelers. Of course, a torrential storm and a highway mishap forces them to take refuge in an ominous boarded up resort that now only houses creepy old Felipe and the little girl he has locked in the basement cell.

When they inevitably discover innocent looking Ana Marie, he warns them not to listen to her evil lies, but they do. Needless to say, Felipe is soon proved correct. It turns out the spirit of a witch executed on Gallows Hill was possessing his daughter and is now out for revenge against the descendants of her executioners.

At first, The Damned looks like a Colombian riff on Charles Beaumont’s classic “Howling Man” Twilight Zone episode, but it also takes elements from Gregory Hoblit’s underrated Fallen and gives them a good twist. In fact, the whole system of possession is a rather clever bit of horror movie mechanics. However, the film’s best asset is the incredibly eerie setting. Unlike the Stanley, this is one movie hotel horror fans will not want to visit.

Twilight vampire franchise survivor Peter Facinelli is pretty solid as the exasperated father. He makes a convincing couple with Sophia Myles, who adds some welcome grace and class as the eternally understanding Lauren. On the other hand, Nathalia Ramos’ constantly pouting quickly makes Jill a tiresome eye-roller, while Colombian superstar Carolina Guerra is almost distractingly sultry as Aunt Gina, the supposedly scuffling reporter.

Thanks to cinematographer Alejandro Moreno and production designer Asdrúbal Medina’s team, The Damned is a fine example of how much visual style and ambience can add to horror film. Although García and screenwriter-co-producer Richard D’Ovidio never reinvent the supernatural wheel, they keep it spinning quite effectively. Recommended with confidence for genre fans, The Damned opens this Friday (8/29), late night, at the IFC Center and is currently available on IFC Midnight’s VOD platforms.

NY Latino Film Fest ’12: 180 Seconds

Evidently, Colombia is now more concerned with armed robbers than Marxist terrorists or drug cartels.  Sounds like progress to me.  It is still a dangerous country though, especially for a gang of takers about to be taken in Alexander Giraldo’s 180 Seconds (trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York Latino Film Festival.

Zico is planning a major heist on the day of an all important World Cup qualifying game against Uruguay.  Viewers know from the flashback structure, both will end badly for the home teams.  It seems Zico’s gang got played, but Giraldo keeps the details sketchy, hop-scotching back and forth along the timeline, often replaying several key scenes, but backing up successively further each time to supply more context.

Zico’s outfit is a family affair, including his beloved hacker sister Angelica and their lifelong boon companion, El Guajaro.  Rincon is the only outsider in the mix, hired on the advice of their nicked pal.  He seems to fit in, because strong sullen types always do.  However, when he catches Angelica’s eye, it causes a bit of friction between the new guy and her suspiciously co-dependent brother.  Zico acts like things are cool, but you never can tell with him.  Regardless, things will get bloody when it is finally go time.

With its time-shifts and a plot often paralleling Reservoir Dogs, 180 owes an obvious debt to Tarantino.  Still, Giraldo gives it a hedonistic club kid vibe totally unlike the talkie lowlife gangster milieu of indie dweeb-god’s films.  Though the constant flashes forwards and back sound annoying as a migraine, Giraldo handles them quite deftly, often focusing on some nice character establishing bits, while supplying more pieces to the narrative puzzle.

Manuel Sarmiento Vallejo gets it, playing Zico, the unstable mastermind, to the hilt.  Angelica Blandon is also pretty spot on as her namesake, the flirtatious and petit pseudo-femme fatale.  Conversely, though he might be playing the muscle, Alejandro Aguilar is a weak presence as Rincon, which is a drawback, considering he has the heaviest character development arc.

Nonetheless, Giraldo packs a lot of style and energy into 180, but never to the point that it substitutes for substance.  In recent years, some of the best Latin American films have come from Colombia, such as Ciro Guerra’s The Wind Journeys and Jorge Navas’s dynamite noir morality play Blood and Rain.  While not quite at the level of the latter, 180 is still an impressively executed crime drama.  Recommended for those who appreciate the grittier side of the heist genre or closely follow Colombian cinema, 180 Seconds screens this Friday night (8/17) at the Chelsea Clearview as part of the 2012 NY Latino Film Fest.

Global Lens ’12: Short, Fat, Bald Man

Antonio Farfan cuts a distinctly George Costanza-like profile, but he has none of the Yankees’ special assistant to the traveling secretary’s confidence, such as it was. Still, he might just develop a smidge of social confidence in Carlos Osuna’s Fat, Bald, Short Man (trailer here), an earnest animated feature that screens tonight at The Picture House in Pelham, New York, as part of the 2012 Global Lens collection, which started its annual tour this January at MoMA.

Farfan is the only employee with any integrity in a Bogotá notary’s office, until the arrival of the new boss. Not only is Mr. Enriquez honest, he happens to be the near spitting image of Farfan. However, Enriquez is assertive and sociable. He duly takes Farfan under his wing, but the nebbish clerk is not about to explode out of his shell anytime soon. Nonetheless, if he ever stands up to his abusive mooch of a brother that will at least be something.

Fat is a small, modest film, largely distinguished by its striking animation. Mixing rotoscope effects, traditional 2D animation, and photorealistic backgrounds, it has a distinctly idiosyncratic look. As storytellers though, Osuna and collaborating writers Carlos Andrés Reyes and Juan Mauricio Ruiz opt for the scrupulously realistic. They will only grant Farfan small victories and force him to endure multiple public humiliations, despite their obvious love for the Colombian Charlie Brown.

Osuna’s team creates some nice scenes for the two short bald men, but the most memorable sequences involve Farfan’s strained relationship with a dying neighbor. Contradicting the film’s expected carpe diem message, the old man’s persistent regrets are definitely of things done rather than not done.

Álvaro Bayona sensitively gives voice to Farfan’s neuroses and Osuna’s stylish animation helps compensate during the occasional slow moments. While relatively circumspect, the payoff is rather satisfying, because it is straight forward and believable. A well meaning, technically accomplished animated film recommended for those with adult attention spans, Fat screens tonight (2/3) and Thursday (2/9) at The Picture House as the 2012 Global Lens tour makes its way from MoMA to Pelham.

Cinema Tropical: The Wind Journeys

We know the Devil loves music. After all, he played a mean fiddle down in Georgia and tuned Robert Johnson’s guitar at the fateful crossroads. According to local legend, he also cursed a certain accordion particularly well suited to the Vallenato music of tropical Colombia. A world-weary musician sets out to return that instrument to its rightful owner in Ciro Guerra’s The Wind Journeys (trailer here), Colombia’s official 2009 submission for best foreign language Oscar consideration. Following an acclaimed run on the film festival circuit, including Cannes, where it won the Award of the City of Rome, Guerra’s Wind now screens in New York for two nights only starting this Thursday as part of Cinema Tropical’s series at the 92Y Tribeca. However, it is also currently available on Film Movement’s VOD Film Festival Channel.

The itinerant Ignacio Carrillo and his horned accordion are famous among the hardscrabble villages of northern Colombia. Mourning his late wife, he has had enough of the wayfaring life. Yet, he will only relinquish the notorious instrument to the master musician he apprenticed under. It will be quite a trek to reach his secluded cottage, but Carrillo has the unforeseen help of Fermín Morales, a young teenager wishing to learn the troubadour’s trade from the taciturn accordionist.

Visually, Wind is an absolutely arresting film. Cinematographer Paulo Andrés Pérez captures the ferocious beauty of Colombia’s unforgiving countryside. While Guerra can dazzle with his artfully choreographed shots, he also displays restraint when called for, patiently holding his camera for moments of closely observed drama. Despite the archetypal imagery and demonic motifs, Guerra surprisingly de-emphasizes the allegorical suggestions, grounding the story with a tactile sense of place. Indeed, the pacing is intentional languid, but there is a considerable “there” there.

For the most part, Wind is a quiet fable, but when Carrillo and his rival Vallenatos perform, it sounds amazing. Played by real life Vallento musician and composer Marciano Martínez, who obviously knows his way around a button accordion, Carrillo naturally takes the honors during the film’s musical sequences. However, he has first class support (or competition) from fellow Vallentos Beto Rada, José Luís Torres, Rosendo Romero, and Guillermo Arzuaga in their accordion duels, which appear to be truly hardcore cutting contests mixed with the dozens. Martínez is also quite a fine actor, evoking the buried pain and regrets of the stoic journeyman. Yet, perhaps the film’s most intriguing turn comes from the truly cinematic looking Agustín Nieves as a suitably mysterious hermit, who also happens to repair satanic accordions.

As an entry in Cannes’s Un Certain Regard competition, Wind is obviously a film for discriminating audiences. However, any viewer with an adult attention span should be struck by the film’s subtle power. A work of visual and musical beauty, it is a richly rewarding film that should not be missed. Currently on VOD, it screens at the 92 Y Tribeca this Thursday (5/27) and Friday (5/28).

Tribeca ’10: Blood and Rain

Colombia has made great strides fighting leftist terrorism, but cocaine fueled street crime is still a fact of life. No one knows this better than Jorge, a cabbie whose brother was recently killed in an act of not-so random gang violence. Unfortunately, he has a late night appointment with the crooked cop most likely responsible for the crime in Jorge Navas’s Blood and Rain (trailer here), which screens during the 2010 Tribeca Film Festival.

In their previous lives, Jorge’s brother had a gift for planning operations against the guerillas, which he recently applied to a vicious gang operating on the streets of Bogota. Shortly thereafter, he was murdered in a clear act of retaliation. Angry and grieving, Jorge is in no mood for a shakedown from the crooked Lieutenant González’s henchman. Unfortunately, he winds up on the receiving end of a savage beating and invitation to a 4:00 AM meeting with the Lieutenant that is a blatantly obvious set-up.

Not thinking clearly, Jorge picks up hardcore partier Angela before passing out from his injuries. Much to her own surprise, she does the right thing, taking him to the hospital and tending to his wounds while they wait. Even after he is stitched up, Angela is reluctant to say goodnight, accompanying Jorge as he enlists the help of Don Hector, a shadowy businessman who was once his commanding officer.

Blood and Rain is an aptly named noir, since neither commodity is in short supply throughout the film. Much like the best film noirs of Dassin and Lang, Rain immerses viewers in a hardboiled world unto itself. It is fascinating to watch Don Hector’s paramilitary cab fleet closing in on Lieutenant González’s crew, as they in turn tighten the noose around Jorge.

Yet Rain is truly a moody, quiet film that forgoes many of the genre’s typically action-oriented plot devices. While cinematographer Juan Carlos Gil nicely captures Bogota’s late-night netherworld with sinister elegance, the key to the film’s success is the nuanced chemistry between its leads, Gloria Montoya and Quique Mendoza, as Angela and Jorge, respectively. Personifying world-weary romanticism, they are like ships passing in the night that cannot let go of their brief encounter, though they understand only too well the danger in holding on. Montoya’s work is particularly impressive, investing her character with considerable depth and sympathy, despite her problematic lifestyle.

While Rain is compelling as a crime drama, it has surprising substance. In the tradition of great noirs past, it employs themes not out of place in classic tragedy, like loyalty, revenge, and redemption. It also creates a visceral sense of Bogota’s nightlife, using the city as an effective backdrop for its morality play.

As Navas’s feature directorial debut, Rain is a remarkably assured work. An unusual blend of lyric tragedy and gritty naturalism, Rain is a relatively unsung highlight of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival. Enthusiastically recommended for mature audiences, it screens again today (5/1) and tomorrow (5/2).