SFIFF52 REVIEWS: The Paranoids, Rudo y Cursi, Good Cats

The Paranoids (Los paranoicos)

Argentinean filmmaker Gabriel Medina's offbeat first feature moves a bit slow, but it's still inventive and enchanting enough to make one curious about his follow-up work. Essentially a character study, the film follows Luciano (Whisky's talented Daniel Hendler, looking a bit like a Uruguayan Paul Schneider), a quirkily neurotic, procrastinating screenwriter who earns a living entertaining at kids' parties (garbed in a Smoochy-like suit as his character "Cachito"). He spends a lot of time brooding in his apartment because he's, well, paranoid and sociophobic. He's such the perfectionist that he's spent years struggling over one script, and unsurprisingly, all his anxieties make it hard for him to have a girlfriend. (In the midst of a fling, he's terrified of contracting an STD because the condom breaks.) After he accidentally puts his performing partner in the hospital, his life is changed (in shades) when his longtime friend Manuel comes to visit. A TV producer, Manuel thinks Luciano's writing may be of interest to a Spanish program called "The Paranoids"—which, as Luciano discovers, is largely based on him. Things are further complicated when Manuel's girlfriend Sofia stays with Luciano while her beau works. Packed with emotional issues of her own, Sofia and her host find themselves intrigued by each other.

The Paranoids is unsettling at times; it's described as a dark comedy but I didn't find it particularly hilarious, though it has a certain downbeat drollness. (It's hard not to chuckle during the boxing videogame sequence). Medina does a nice job keeping the balance between comedy and tragedy, where Luciano's life is constantly teetering between. It's not the most gripping of plots, but the film is more a mood piece, enhanced by Lucio Bonelli's lovely cinematography. Even with only a peripheral knowledge of Argentina's recent economic collapse, it's clear that the country's anxiousness about its tenuous future is perfectly reflected in Luciano's fearful personality. The other main reason to see the film is Hendler's performance. Playing someone who could potentially grate quickly, he manages to make his nervous protagonist sympathetic, even endearing. Check out Lost Embrace on DVD for another great Hendler role. I look forward to more from both Medina and this charismatic young actor.

Rudo y Cursi

Diego Luna is Beto (a/k/a Rudo, meaning both "crude" and "tough") and Gael Garcia Bernal plays Tato (a/k/a Cursi, or "cheesy"), two rural Mexican half-brothers with ultra-competitive streaks, in this brisk, irresistible sports comedy from Carlos Cuarón (half-brother to Alfonso, who directed Luna and Bernal in Y tu mamá también). When they're not picking bananas for tiny wages, they're found playing soccer on the most ramshackle fields imaginable—Rudo the goalkeeper, and Tato a show-offy striker—but even if these hardscrabble fields offer games more pure, the two both dream of making it big. They're each discovered by a corruptive but charming agent nicknamed Batuta, or "baton" (played with alegría de vivir by Guillermo Francella), who seems to have a different babe on his arm every time we see him. Understanding straight away that the boys have clearly had a life-long competition with each other, Batuta plays brother against brother, ultimately getting them both into the Mexico City spotlight. Tato becomes a star player, earning his nickname for his fancypants playing and lifestyle outside the game—he dates a TV hostess/model, and pursues the career that really matters to him: singing professionally.

Batuto narrates the film in a fourth-wall-breaking way, but unlike many superfluous voiceovers, I found his insights especially amusing. Lines like "Wars are mistaken for games, and games are mistaken for wars" give the film another playful layer. The earliest parts of the film are most charming, when simple pleasures can be found in Cuarón's depiction of poor, rustic Mexico. When the plot inevitably moves to Mexico City, the film becomes a bit more predictable, with Cursi's ascent happening awfully fast. But while sports-movie clichés sneak onto the field (gambling problems, drugs, shady agents, untrustworthy women, ethical conundrums, right up to the Big Game With Seconds Left on the Scoreboard Clock), I found myself fairly forgiving because the film ultimately glides smoothly on the effortlessly appeal of both leading actors. Despite us essentially knowing the outcome, the conclusion still satisfies; it's an appropriate ending. Soccer movies are rare enough; good ones are harder to find. Even the mega-popular Bend It Like Beckham had fairly unrealistic soccer scenes. While I wouldn't rank Rudo y Cursi even close to a classic, fans of the game will find plenty to enjoy in how it captures all the levels of the game, from the banana fields to the huge estadia, in the world's most popular team sport. For non-fans, there's still enough humor and spirit, and Luna and Bernal's not insignificant charisma, to hold interest.

Good Cats

Director Ying Liang, whose previous two films (Taking Father Home and The Other Half) also played at SFIFF, has made a provocative narrative about the New China. Set in the city of Zigong (Sichuan), which has so been late to develop that it's playing catch-up, the film depicts eager real estate developers corruptly and too-quickly trying to rid the city of its "peasants." Ying is already becoming a "master of the bleak comedy" (as Roger Garcia correctly wrote in the fest's synopsis) and Good Cats might be his best yet. It centers around Luo Lang, a young man trying to make ends meet as a driver for a local business magnate, i.e., "boss," whose weight seems in direct proportion to his greed. Luo is in an unhappy marriage, isn't satisfying his in-laws' expectations, and watches as his failed former mentor drinks himself to death. Shot on digital video, the film has an immediacy that makes the tribulations of Zigong seem all the more naturalistic. Interestingly, Ying uses long takes and distant shots to let the audience choose where to look in any given scene. While this is occasionally distancing, it enhances the realism and the Jarmusch-like deadpan wit (such as a running gag in which Luo's rickety motorbike refuses to start).

The title playfully refers to Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping's famous quote: "I don't care if it's a white cat or a black cat. It's a good cat so long as it catches mice." (There's also a running kitty motif here, with alley cats constantly "mao-ing" in the background.) It's not an entirely developed conceit, but it's at least clear that Ying finds a profound irony in that statement—the drive for economic windfall has led to a lot of greedy, shortsighted cats getting involved in Chinese development. Similarly, the impending Beijing Olympics form a tongue-in-cheek backdrop, with creepy-cheerful iconic advertising surrounding the protagonist on every nearby television screen and billboard. Good Cats is a bittersweet portrayal of the New China, but it also works as a satire, full of richly textured characters and amusing set-pieces. The haunting music in the film doesn't hide in the distance; Chinese indie rockers Lamb's Funeral appear to perform dirge-like ditties at several key moments (including the unforgettable final scene), like some sort of death-metal Greek chorus. (Sadly, as the director noted in the Q&A, the band has since dissolved.) It's sad to think this film may not get a wide international release. Seek it out if you can. Given the number of people who are circulating DVDs in China these days as sort of homespun film festivals, maybe someone, perhaps even the director himself, can dupe a copy for you.

Posted by ahillis at May 4, 2009 10:28 PM