Attribution: TSolange, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
The Magic of Latin American Cinema
By Geoff Carter
We are in the midst of National Hispanic Heritage Month. From September 15th to October 15th, we will be celebrating the contributions of generations of Hispanic Americans. Hispanic influenced art, architecture, literature, and poetry have enriched the lives of every American—whether they might know it or not.
Of course, any celebration of Hispanic culture would be woefully incomplete without the inclusion of film. While Guillermo del Toro, Alfonso Cuaron, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, and Robert Rodriguez—among dozens of others—have made an indelible mark on American cinema with classics like Gravity, The Revenant, The Devil’s Backbone, and the Spy Kids series, dozens more artists are creating cinematic masterpieces in their native lands. Alonso Ruizpalacio’s wonderful Gueros is lovingly shot in Mexico City, as is Cuaron’s Roma.
Chilean director Pablo Larrain’s delightful black political comedy El Conde is a masterpiece, as is Puerto Rican director Miguel Arteta’s Beatriz at Dinner. This rich diversity of sensibilities and vision in these films is emblematic of the vast strands of culture grouped under the “Hispanic” tent. Yet commonalities like the use of magical realism in Like Water for Chocolate or Pan’s Labyrinth is informed by Latin American literary traditions of the 1940s.
Themes of family, history, identity, and the borderland weave through the comprehensive fabric of Latin American cinema, transcending national borders. From El Norte to Frida to Gueros to Pan’s Labyrinth, these themes continue to resonate. And yet the magic, humor, optimism, and playfulness of a Like Water for Chocolate or a Pan’s Labyrinth or an El Conde interwoven with dark strands of history and politics is a quintessential trait of Hispanic film.
Here are, in my humble opinion, ten of the best examples of Hispanic film. I did attempt to create a cross-section of films ranging from the political to the romantic to the historic to the personal. But all are—undeniably—magic.
The Ten Best Latin American Films
Gueros: Set in Mexico City during the student demonstrations of 1999, this film follows Tomas (Sebastian Aguirre), whose mother, overwhelmed by his behavior, sends him to live with his student brother Sombra (Tenoch Huerta) in Mexico City. Sombra, living in sort of intellectual inertia, takes Tomas with him to the student encampment at the university where he meets Ana (Ilse Salas). The group then set off on a quest to find the man who recorded the song beloved by their father. A wonderful study of friendship, alienation, commitment, apathy, and activism. Beautifully shot in black and white and impeccably directed by Alonso Ruizpalacios, this is a masterpiece.
Roma: In Alfonso Cuaron’s bittersweet family drama set in the Colonia Roma, Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), live-in maid to an upper-class family. Antonio (Fernando Grediaga), the father is often absent on business. His wife Sofia (Marian de Tavira) suspects he is having an affair which she attempts to conceal from the children. Cleo discovers she is pregnant and is abandoned by her boyfriend Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrero) who joins a paramilitary group. Later, Sofia and Cleo witness the 1971 Corpus Christi massacre while shopping for a baby crib. The family vacations at Tuxpan where Sofia learns her husband is leaving her. While swimming, Cleo rescues two of the children about to be carried away by the current. As in many Hispanic films like Gueros, Like Water for Chocolate, and El Conde, the action is punctuated by political events. The film is not only a tribute to the Colonia Roma, but a beautifully rendered portrait of family, class, and love.
Y Tu Mama Tambien: This coming-of-age tale examining the friendship of Tenoch (Diego Luna) and Julio (Gael Garcia Bernal), two teenaged boys, in 1999 Mexico. After their girlfriends leave for a European tour, the boys decide to take a road trip to a secluded beach. At a wedding, they meet Luisa (Maribel Verdu) the wife of Tenoch’s cousin and invite her on the trip. At first she declines, but after discovering her husband has been unfaithful, she decides to accompany them. Finding her in tears, Tenoch attempts to console her, and the two have sex. Jealous upon discovering this, Julio pouts until Luisa has sex with him, too. The trio continue traveling through the wilds of Mexico until they do find their beach. In a final three-way encounter, the boys discover how much they care for each other. Alfonso Cuaron’s use of the road movie genre as means to explore the nature of sexuality and friendship as well as to provide a foray into Mexican culture is beautifully done.
Spy Kids: In this Robert Rodriguez romp, retired spies Gregrio and Ingrid Cortez (Antonio Banderas and Carla Gugino) are pulled back into active duty and captured. Their children Carmen and Juni (Alexa Vega and Daryl Sabara) discover their parents’ past and persuading their gadget master uncle Machete (Danny Trejo) to help them, they confront arch-villain children’s TV show host Fegan Floop (Alan Cumming) who in reality is being manipulated by forces beyond his control. Rodriguez has said he envisioned the film as sort of a cross between Willie Wonka and James Bond, but I thought I could detect a little Derek Flint in there, too. Between the delightfully absurd spy gadgets, tongue-in-cheek dialogue, and goofy physical comedy, this was one kid’s movie I never minded watching.
Pan’s Labyrinth: In this fantastic and sometimes terrifying tale, Ofelia (Ivana Banquera) a young girl, attempting to help Carmen (Ariadna Gil) her pregnant ailing mother, is required to navigate a labyrinth. Her journey of the imagination takes the form of sinister and supernatural forms, but none are so evil as the all-too-real sadistic Captain Vidal (Sergio Lopez), who ruthlessly hunts down opponents of the Franco regime. Vidal does not care if Carmen lives or dies; he only wants his son. Writer and director Guillermo del Toro based it on his own dreams as a child. The film has been termed a fairy tale punctuated with the very real and very violent realities of war. Guillermo’s horrific Pale Man has become an iconic figure in horror and fantastical cinema.
El Conde: In this hilarious mash-up of comedy, politics, and horror from Chile’s Pablo Larrain, dictator Augusto Pinochet is revealed to be, well, not exactly alive, but a 250-year-old vampire who faked his own death at the end of his reign. Bored with his life and having lost his will to live, he gathers his family around him. Convinced that his wife and aide are having an affair and that his children only want his fortune, he finds a reason to live when he meets Carmen, ostensibly sent to audit him but in reality, a nun sent to exorcise him. To say things take a series of left turns is an understatement. The film is a beautifully orchestrated mix of history, family, fantasy, the church, and magic filmed in gloriously shot black and white.
Problemista: This quirky comedy is the first feature directed by writer and comedian Julio Torres. It follows young aspiring toy designer Alejandro (Torres) as he tries to break into the industry in New York City. After his quirky ideas—a Cabbage Patch doll with an iPhone and a Barbie with her fingers crossed behind her back—are shot down and his immigrant status threatened, Alejandro takes a job babysitting a cryogenic freezer containing an artist Bobby’s (RZA) body. When Alejandro is fired, he is recruited by Bobby’s acerbic wife (Tilda Swinton) to mount an art show to pay for Bobby’s upkeep. This film flirts with the surreal; in one scene, Torres illustrates Alejandro’s dilemma by creating a sort of Escher-type loop. Craig’s List is personified as an ultra-creepy entity floating in space. A wonderfully inventive film which promises to be the first of many.
Like Water for Chocolate: In Alfonso Arau’s tale of (nearly) unrequited love, Tita (Lumi Cavazos), being the youngest of three daughters, has the duty of caring for their mother Elena (Regina Torne) until her death. With the assistance of Nacha (Ada Carrasco), Tita is born on the kitchen table. As she grows up, Nacha teaches the young girl how to cook. Years later, a young man named Pedro professes his love for Tita but cannot marry her because she is beholden to her mother. At Elena’s suggestion, he marries one of Tita’s sisters instead. As Tita bakes the wedding cake, she cries into the batter. Later, when the guests eat the cake, they are overcome with the sadness for the young lovers. Tita’s recipes continue to evoke tremendous emotions in anyone who eats them. This fantastical trope, embedded in a real love story (with some political overtones) is a hallmark of magical realism. This is a wonderful, funny, and heartbreaking film.
Maria Full of Grace: In this harrowing look inside the Colombian drug trade, Maria (Catalina Sandino Moreno) helps support her struggling family by working in a flower plantation dethorning roses. After quitting, and discovering she is pregnant, she agrees to act as a drug mule and help smuggle sixty-two packets of drugs and flies to New York City with Lucy (Guilied Lopez) and Blanca (Yenni Paola Vega), two other mules. Suspicious of her story, the authorities nearly hold her but decide to let her go. While waiting to pass the packets, Lucy dies when a packet inside her ruptures. Maria and Blanca run away after Maria discovers they have cut open Lucy’s body to retrieve the drugs. They hide out with Lucy’s sister before resolving their issues with the traffickers. Moreno is simply radiant as Maria, giving a bravura performance in her feature film debut.
Gods of Mexico: This enigmatic documentary by Helmut Dosantos of the people of Mexico is part cinema verité, part portraiture, part abstraction, and part scrapbook. Structured by geographical area, the beginning sequence follows one man as he meticulously digs a hole in a small butte, connects it to a lateral airway, and then builds a fire inside it. There are no subtitles or voice-over explanations. The viewer must deduce what is happening in this sequence and those that follow. The second part of the film is shot in black and white, and features staged still portraits (caught on film) of various Mexicanos. They are rich, poor, indigenous, male, female, and child. Some are working. Some are simply standing and looking at the camera, not unlike vintage postcards once found in gift shops and drugstores. Like the film Koyaanisqatsi, this documentary is not as much an explanation as it is a revelation.
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