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Archive for August, 2008
(Español) Historia peruana en el cine
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(Español) La mexicana Parque vía se queda con el Leopardo de Oro del 61º Festival de Locarno
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(Español) Cineasta cubano filmará versión adolescente de José Martí
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(Español) Festival de Miami va a México
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(Español) Póker: Colombia-España en el cine
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Hasta el Viento Tiene Miedo remake
A remake of Carlos Enrique Taboada’s 1967 movie–now something of a cult favorite–Hasta el viento tiene miedo fared well at the domestic box-office and is enjoyable, slick entertainment. The cast is attractive and competent, the production values are solid, and the direction, photography, editing, etc., are all professional.
Although the plot does not slavishly follow the original story, the many similarities might make the picture a little predictable (to be expected from a remake). The only issue I have with Hasta el viento tiene miedo is minor: the private rehabilitation center for trouble teenage girls is located in a huge mansion, yet has a miniscule staff and a mere handful of patients (six to be exact), which hardly seems financially feasible.
After several suicide attempts, teenager Claudia is sent to a private, residential treatment center located in an old country house. The center is run by Bernarda and psychologist Lucía. There are five other girls there, suffering from addictions, eating disorders, and other emotional and psychological issues.
A series of strange events occur. Claudia (a brunette) after finding light hairs in her hairbrush, blames the blonde Jéssica, a charge the other girl denies. Josefina is accused of using her drawing pens to lacerate her thighs, but tells Claudia “Andrea did it.” Claudia and Jéssica sneak into an old tower on the grounds, now used for storage; Jéssica takes pills from the room, while Claudia discovers files of former patients, including Andrea’s folder. Claudia later finds a necklace in her room.
For visiting the (off-limits) tower–Josefina informed on her–Claudia is forced to sleep in a locked room in the center; Josefina experiences a violent outburst at dinner and is sent to the infirmary. The other four girls experiment with a Ouija board, then Jéssica does a strip-tease. She undresses down to her panties, but spots a blonde girl in a mirror across the room and screams. The mirror shatters. Claudia, meanwhile sees a shadowy figure open the door to her room; believing it is Josefina, Claudia follows her outside to the tower. Inside, she is startled and falls down the staircase to her death. However, Bernarda tells the other girls Claudia is “injured but recovering.” The center will close down for a time and they’ll all be sent home the next day.
In flashback, Lucía is seen giving Andrea the necklace Claudia later found. The two are involved in a lesbian relationship, although the psychologist is having second thoughts about the propriety of their romance. Later, another flashback shows Josefina informing Bernarda of what is going on; Bernarda spies on Lucía and Andrea (Andrea sees but doesn’t tell her lover). In the tower, Bernarda fondles Andrea, who bites the director’s hand and is pushed down the stairs to her death.
Claudia comes back to life (the director says she took an overdose of drugs that provoked a cataleptic state) but is now possessed by Andrea’s spirit. After talking to Lucía, Claudia/Andrea lures Bernarda outside in the driving rain, to the tower. Lucía and the girls try to follow, but the doors of the mansion close and lock of their own accord. In the tower, Claudia/Andrea puts a noose on Bernarda’s neck, and when the others (having broken a window to escape the house) enter, they see the center’s director hanging, dead. Claudia is back to normal.
Later, the staff and students leave the now-closed center. Claudia gives Lucía the necklace. Alone in the mansion, Lucía prepares to commit suicide by slitting her wrists while seated in a bathtub. She gazes in a mirror, and says “Andrea!” Her image changes to that of Andrea, who replies, “Claudia!” The end.
Although it would serve no purpose to make a detailed comparison between the two versions of Hasta el viento tiene miedo, those familiar with both films will see the basic plot is the same: Claudia is possessed by the spirit of Andrea, who uses her to get revenge on the sinister Bernarda. The 1967 film fooled around with some time-wasting stuff about boyfriends and expanded the possessed-Claudia footage to include Claudia playing the piano like Andrea did, and Claudia excelling in a literature class like Andrea did, ooh, spooky. The lesbian rationale for Andrea’s death is new to the remake, the setting is of course changed from a boarding school to a treatment center (although both are located in massive country houses and have a mere handful of students/patients), and the relatively happy ending of the original (Lucía will become the new school director) is turned into a bittersweet conclusion (Lucía commits suicide to be with her true love, Andrea). Curiously, the remake includes two direct homages to the original–the shower scene and the strip-tease scene–neither of which is particularly important or relevant to the plot (even in the ‘67 version they were basically cheesecake titillation, and the remake ups the ante with actual nudity).
In neither version is it entirely clear why Andrea’s ghost chooses the newly-arrived Claudia to carry out her vengeance; in the remake, Claudia is assigned Andrea’s old room, and perhaps we are supposed to make the link between Claudia “not caring” if she lives or dies and her eventual death-and-resurrection. The new version of Hasta includes some touches which would have been unthinkable in 1967: for example, the anorexic (although she doesn’t look it) Claudia has stopped menstruating (a real-life effect of anorexia); at the movie’s end, she begins her period and comments that this blood represents life, as opposed to death.
The performances are quite good. Martha Higareda (the daughter of actress Martha Elena Cervantes) is becoming an important and popular actress in Mexican cinema, and has a strong screen presence. Danny Perea, who shot to fame in Temporada de patos, is prominent as the troubled Josefina; the rest of the young actresses are attractive (Mafer Malo strongly resembles Amedee Chabot in some shots) and competent, although their roles are slightly under-written. Verónica Langer doesn’t have to do much but look stern, while Mónica Dionne gets to do more acting as the sympathetic Lucía. Cassandra Ciangherotti, who is billed but not credited as Andrea, has little significant screen time but is effective–the film hedges its bets on whether she’s manipulating Lucía for her own ends, or if she really has an emotional attachment to the older woman.
Hasta el viento tiene miedo is an attractive film, shot on location at an impressive house; Arturo de la Rosa’s cinematography is fluid and shows no evidence of the “shaky cam” tendencies of Cañitas. Director Gustavo Moheno opts for a naturalistic style, generally avoiding flashy jump cuts, shocks, etc. The special effects are minimal, in keeping with the overall restrained tone (some might complain, on the other hand, that the movie simply isn’t that scary as a result): Hasta is an “old-fashioned” character-and-plot driven fantasy film.
Trivia notes: Alicia Bonet, “Claudia” in the 1967 version, plays Claudia’s mother in this picture. Also, in the strip-tease sequence, clips from a movie starring “Los Polivoces” are shown on TV (the comedy team’s films were produced by Orofilms, one of the production companies that made Hasta….). Finally, there are a number of connections between Hasta el viento tiene miedo and Cañitas–Hasta’s producers include Estrella Medina and Julio César Estrada, who produced and directed Cañitas, respectively; Fernando Luján has cameo roles in both pictures (also, given that his real last name is Ciangherotti, Hasta actresses Valeria and Cassandra Ciangherotti are probably related to him); the two films also share a cinematographer, composer, and film editor, among other crew members. The biggest difference? Hasta el viento tiene miedo has a solid script, while Cañitas does not.
Hasta el viento tiene miedo is generally a pleasant piece of commercial entertainment.
Ghosts of 2007
Those who enjoy fantasy films in general, and Mexican fantasy films in particular, must have been pleased to note that this genre fared particularly well at the box-office in 2007. As noted in MFB Vol. 14 #1, four of the top seven most popular Mexican movies were fantasy-oriented: Kilómetro 31, La leyenda de la Nahuala (an animated feature), Hasta el viento tiene miedo, and Cañitas: Presencia. I was able to see all three of the live-action films on this list, and my reviews of them follow.
Kilómetro 31 [Kilometer 31]
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Notes: this Mexican-Spanish co-production was by far the top-grossing Mexican film of 2007 (over 3 million tickets sold, 118 million pesos earned–#2 was Niñas mal, which earned 78 million pesos) and it won 5 Ariel Awards (Best Sound, Costumes, Special Effects, Visual Effects, and Makeup), so why don’t I like Kilómetro 31 more than I do? Basically, this is an example of style over substance, and the “style” in this case is too reminiscent of countless recent Hollywood fantasy films (The Grudge, etc.) which in turn were heavily influenced by (or outright remakes of) Japanese fantasy cinema like Ju-on and Ringu. Despite some intriguing hints and clues sprinkled throughout, the plot of Kilómetro 31 is obscure, sketchy, vague, and illogical. The characters are ciphers and the conclusion is confusing at best. I’m always worried that I won’t “get” things in Mexican films due to a language and/or culture gap, but other critics confirm my impressions. However, Km. 31 was undeniably a runaway hit, so these “faults” didn’t matter to 3 million Mexican filmgoers!
One night, near the Kilometer 31 highway marker in the Desierto de Leones area (outside Mexico City), Agata Hameran’s auto strikes a child who suddenly appears on the highway. [The audience can see the "child" looks like a zombie or animated corpse.] When she gets out to render aid, Agata herself is hit by a speeding truck and badly injured.
Agata’s twin sister Catalina, who lives nearby, senses something and races to the accident scene with her boyfriend Nuño. Agata is taken to a hospital, where her legs are amputated; she remains in a coma. The doctor tells Catalina no injured child was found at the Km. 31 scene. Later, Agata’s boyfriend Omar visits Km. 31 to look around. He hears the sound of a child crying and–on the edge of his peripheral vision–a child dashes through the woods. A car stops and the driver–detective Ugalde–says he is investigating the accident and Omar should mind his own business.
Catalina begins to experience odd visions and hear things; she follows a trail of blood from her house to a manhole cover, and hears sobbing and screams from underground. Visiting Agata in the hospital, she hears child-like giggles and feels something touch her back. Agata opens her eyes, but the doctor tells Catalina her sister is still in a deep coma. Catalina informs Nuño she and Agata were orphaned while young: their father was killed in a construction accident and their mother died of an accidental overdose of medicine. (However, a repeated motif of drowning suggests this latter statement might not be true.)
On their way to look for clues at Km. 31, Nuño and Omar argue and their car strikes a pedestrian. Catalina thinks she sees a child in the woods at the spot; Nuño is taken into custody but later released. Detective Ugalde tells him he’s been trying to find the mysterious child at Km. 31 for three years. Catalina and Nuño return to Km. 31 and wander into the woods: an old woman greets them at a run-down house, and tells them a story similar to the Llorona legend. She says Catalina may be able to help resolve the supernatural problem through Agata, who has a link to the “other side.” Nuño and Catalina spend the night in the old house.
Meanwhile, Omar visits Ugalde and reads files of more than two dozen other accidents at Km. 31. Not finding Catalina and Nuño in their house, he goes looking for them in the forest. Passing through a dense fog, Omar spots a ghostly figure standing on the surface of a pool of water. Walking towards the figure, Omar plunges into the pond.
The next day, Catalina and Nuño go home and find the files Omar left, as well as a map of the various incidents. A newspaper article from the 1940s describes the suicide of a woman near Km. 31–the photograph is the woman they met the day before! Driving back to Km. 31, Catalina sees Omar beside the road; he doesn’t speak, but gestures for her to drive to the Km. 31 marker. There, in a ditch beside the road, is Omar’s corpse. Catalina calls the police, then departs. Ugalde and Nuño visit the old woman’s house, but it is now deserted.
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In an attempt to psychically solve the mystery, Catalina enters the drainage tunnels beneath the streets via a construction site. Ugalde and Nuño follow. Catalina sees the old woman, the ghost of her mother, and a variety of other supernatural creatures. Nuño arrives: before his eyes, Catalina changes into a monster that he clubs to death. Ugalde appears but only sees Nuño attacking Catalina. Nuño puts the barrel of his gun into his mouth to commit suicide but Ugalde wounds him instead. Later, in the hospital Ugalde says Nuño murdered Catalina. Meanwhile, Agata snaps out of her coma and demands to see her child. As the film concludes, she screams “where is my child!!!!”
Combining snippets of various stories–from the “Phantom Hitchhiker” to the legend of La Llorona–Kilómetro 31 never develops a cohesive plot. The concept of a haunted stretch of highway where numerous fatal accidents occur is good, but this never clearly meshes with the Catalina-Agata backstory, and the final section in the drainage tunnels also seems at odds with the basic premise (after all, the film is called Kilómetro 31 yet the climax occurs nowhere near this spot!).
None of the characters is very well developed. Hints of a conflict between Omar and Nuño are brought up, then dropped (well, Omar gets killed, so that puts an end to it!). Catalina’s relationship with Agata is alluded to–”we’re the same but you’re better at everything” Catalina tells her comatose sister–but the exact circumstances of their mother’s death and what this has to do with the main ghost story are unclear. I’m sorry, I just like a little more structure and logic than Castañeda provides.
The overall visual design of Kilómetro 31 is quite nightmarish, dark and depressing. This is practically a black-and-white film, given the unrelievedly dank, shadowy mise-en-scene. Standard spook-film tricks abound: jump cuts, odd bursts of sound, almost-subliminal images. etc. Not to second-guess the Academia, but while the technical Arieles won by Kilómetro 31 may have been deserved, there’s nothing here that hasn’t been done recently by other medium-budget fantasy films around the world.
The performances are satisfactory, within the limitations of the script. Iliana Fox bears an unfortunate resemblance to Julia-Louis Dreyfuss–unfortunate in the sense that her character’s physical similarity to “Elaine Benes” made it hard to accept her in a dramatic role. Collado and Méndez are fine but not really distinctive, but Carlos Aragón does a fairly good job as the detective in the case.
Perhaps the popularity of Kilómetro 31 caused me to have high expectations and–when these weren’t fulfilled
–my disappointment may have caused me to judge this somewhat harshly. It certainly isn’t a bad movie at all, and in fact is quite slick and stylish overall. But, while it provides reasonable entertainment, it’s also forgettable and derivative and just a little empty.
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Trivia notes: despite some objections by the director, Kilómetro 31 was dubbed into “Castilian” Spanish for its release in Spain. There are also rumors that nearly 20 minutes of footage was cut–again, over the objections of the director–which, if true, might have contributed to the incoherent plot.
2008 Ariel Awards
The 50th Ariel Awards ceremony took place at the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City on 25 March 2008. Luz silenciosa–a drama about a Mennonite community in northern Mexico–and the supernatural thriller Kilómetro 31 each won five times, although the latter film’s awards were all in technical categories. Quemar las naves and the documentary Los ladrones viejos were awarded two Arieles each; Cobrador, in God We Trust was nominated in 8 categories, but earned only one Ariel for director Paul Leduc.
The Lifetime Achievement Ariel de Oro went to actress Silvia Pinal, whose daughters Alejandra Guzmán and Silvia Pasquel were in attendance. Also receiving special Arieles were a group of film workers whose careers spanned more than 50 years in the industry, including one (Carlos Horcasitas) who died just a week before the ceremony.
BEST FILM:
Cobrador, in God We Trust
Los ladrones viejos
Luz silenciosa
BEST DIRECTOR:
Paul Leduc (Cobrador…)
Everardo González (Los ladrones viejos)
Carlos Reygadas (Luz silenciosa)
BEST ACTRESS:
Miriam Toews (Luz silenciosa)
Cecila Suárez (Párpados azules)
Irene Azuela (Quemar las naves)
BEST ACTOR:
Lázaro Ramos (Cobrador…)
Jorge Zárate (Dos abrazos)
Enrique Arreola (Párpados azules)
Alan Chávez (Partes usadas)
BEST CO-STARRING ACTRESS:
Miriana Moro (Drama/Mex)
Mayra Sérbulo (La zona)
María Pankratz (Luz silenciosa)
BEST CO-STARRING ACTOR:
Alan Chávez (La zona)
Mario Zaragoza (La zona)
Silverio Palacios (Morirse en domingo)
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY:
Israel Cárdenas & Laura Amelia Guzmán (Cochochi)
Carlos Reygadas (Luz silenciosa)
Aarón Fernández (Partes usadas)
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY:
Xavier Robles (Cementerio de papel)
Paul Leduc (Cobrador…)
Laura Santullo (La zona)
BEST PHOTOGRAPHY:
Diego Rodríguez, Josep María Civil, Ángel Goded (Cobrador…)
Alexis Zabé (Luz silenciosa)
Guillermo Granillo (Morirse en domingo)
BEST EDITING:
Juan Carlos Macías (Cobrador…)
Juan Manuel Figueroa (Los ladrones viejos)
Natalia López (Luz silenciosa)
BEST ORIGINAL MUSIC:
Carles Cases & La Lupita (Kilómetro 31)
Gabriel Villar (La leyenda de la Nahuala)
Alejandro Giacomán & Joselo Rangel (Quemar las naves)
BEST SOUND:
David Baksht, Martín Hernández, Toninho Muricy, Víctor Tendler, Lena Esquenazi, Jaime Baksht (Cobrador…)
Mario Martínez Cobos, Miguel Ángel Molina, Ernesto Gaytán, Evelia Cruz (Kilómetro 31)
Sergio Díaz, Martín Hernández,Jaime Baksht, Raúl Locatelli (Luz silenciosa)
BEST ART DIRECTION:
Bárbara Enríquez, Margarita Jussid (Cobrador…)
José Luis Aguilar, Lorenza Manrique (Morirse en domingo)
Lizette Ponce (Quemar las naves)
BEST COSTUMES:
Mariestela Fernández (Kilómetro 31)
Nohemí González (Luz silenciosa)
Gabriela Fernández (Párpados azules)
BEST SPECIAL EFFECTS:
Jaime Moreno Buzzo, Alfonso Moreno Buzzo (Cañitas, Presencia)
Alejandro Vázquez (Kilómetro 31)
Ricardo Arvizu (Malos hábitos)
BEST VISUAL EFFECTS:
Raúl Prado, Roberto García, Charlie Iturriaga (Kilómetro 31)
Francisco Muñoz (Malos hábitos)
Raúl Prado, Roberto García, Charlie Iturriaga (Morirse en domingo)
BEST FIRST WORK:
Cochochi (Israel Cárdenas & Laura Amelia Guzmán)
Párpados azules (Ernesto Contreras)
Partes usadas (Aarón Fernández)
BEST MAKEUP
Roberto Ortiz, Iñaqui Legaspi, Gaby Benito (Kilómetro 31)
Regina Reyes, David Ruiz Gameros (Morirse en domingo)
BEST FEATURE-LENGTH DOCUMENTARY
Bajo Juárez, la ciudad devorando a sus hijas (Alejandra Sánchez & José Antonio Cordero)
Los ladrones viejos (Everardo González)
Mi vida dentro (Lucía Gajá)
BEST ANIMATED FEATURE:
La leyenda de la Nahuala (Ricardo Arnaiz)
BEST FICTIONAL SHORT:
Destápalo (Eun-Hee Ihm)
Fin de trayecto (Acán Coen) [tie]
Señas particulares (Kenya Márquez)
Ver llover (Elisa Miller) [tie]
BEST ANIMATED SHORT:
Balance cósmico (Francisco Athié)
De la vista nace el amor (Miguel Anaya Borja)
Síndrome de linea blanca (Lourdes Villagómez)
BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT:
De motu cordis (Mariana Ochoa)
La mutilación de San Pedro, según San Xavier (Olivia Portillo Rangel)
Mago…el misterio de la vida (Ángel Estrada Soto)
BEST IBERO-AMERICAN FILM:
Satanás (Andrés Baiz–Colombia)
Tropa de elite (José Padilha–Brazil)
XXY (Luisa Puenzo–Argentina)
ARIELES DE ORO:
Silvia Pinal
Fernando Morales Ortiz (honorary Ariel)
Arieles de Oro for 50 years in the film industry to: Adolfo Ramírez, Bertha Chiú Amador, Carlos Horcasitas Ochoa, Enrique Lechuga Morales, Enrique Morales Montañez, Fernando Ramírez Romero, Francisco López Serrano, Heriberto Gutiérrez Rivera, Laurencio Cordero, Jesús Durán, Marcelino Pacheco, Salvador Serrano Pérez, Juvenal Herrera Domínguez
(Español) Guillermo Arriaga hace su debut como director en Venecia; conoce los latinos que participan en el festival
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