It
is like the Cheers from Hell. The regulars at this downtown Madrid tavern know
each other’s names, but that does not mean they like each other It is a far
from ideal spot to be trapped during a catastrophe, but its not like anyone had
a choice. Elena just came in to charge her phone, but she will struggle to survive
with a group of strangers in Álex de la Iglesia’s The Bar (trailer
here), which screens during the 2017 Philadelphia Film Festival.
Elena
was on her way to meet her internet date, but alas for him, she will stand him
up. It is not her fault. Blame the sniper picking off every customer leaving
that crummy bar. The mysterious agency at work also disposes of the bodies with
ruthless efficiency. Whatever is going on, the Spanish government does not want
citizens to know about it. An airtight media blackout is in effect and the bar is
soon physically sealed from the outside.
To
survive they will have to work together, but that will be harder than it
sounds. Both the working-class bartender Sátur and Nacho, the hipster
advertising designer would be happy to work closely with Elena, but not so much
the shrewish proprietor or the anti-social pensioner who regular comes to feed
the slot machines. The retired cop and the lingerie salesman are both rather
standoffish, but Israel, the unstable, Bible-quoting homeless maniac will talk
to anyone.
Clearly,
the Spanish government has improved significantly at perpetrating cover-ups
since the release of [REC] 2. It
helps that nobody out there really wants to know the truth, or so de la Iglesia
clearly suggests. Like My Big Night and
Witching & Bitching, The Bar features a colorful cast of
characters, driven by an incredible set of circumstances to act like lunatics.
However, as the initial sense of mystery wears off, it becomes a rather
conventional exercise in lifeboat paranoia. The unhinged Book of Revelations-obsessed
ravings of the increasingly violent “Israel” also quickly become wearisome.
Still, we can see why de la Iglesia is one of the top genre directors on the
international festival scene from the way he generates tension from the contrivances
forcing the survivors to squeeze through a narrow drainage hole into the sewers
below.
Blanca
Suárez truly gives a fearless performance as Elena, especially when de la
Iglesia is lathering her in baking oil and forcing her through said apertures.
Even apart from all that, she elevates the film with her smart, sophisticated
presence. Mario Casas effectively plays against type as the shy, slightly creepy
Nacho. However, Jaime Ordóñez’s abrasively eye-rolling, transparently
on-the-nose Israel goes beyond the cartoonish lunacy we expect and enjoy in de
la Iglesia’s films.
De
la Iglesia has a knack for bedlam and spectacle, but he also has a tendency to get
bogged down in didactic indulgences (As Luck Would Have It being an unfortunate example). Viewers can see full well
the merits of the former inclination and the frustrating implications of the
latter during the course of The Bar.
It is a film that ultimately undermines itself, but it still earns mega-style
points for using Duke Ellington’s “Portrait of Wellman Braud” during the
opening and closing credits. Not nearly as much fun as Big Night or Witching, The Bar is best left to the auteur’s most
ardent fans when it screens Friday (10/27) and Saturday (10/28) as part of this
year’s PFF.
