When I first devised the concept for this project there where certain films that immediately came to mind as possible selections for certain countries. When it came to Argentina, Diego Lerman’s 2002 feature was the first film that I thought about. Part of the reason for this was due to the fact that I had actually checked this film out from a library once before and had liked it enough to consider watching it again. Thus, this will represent the first time in the series where I chose to revisit a film before writing a critique of it.
This film taught me an unfortunate lesson on how public libraries operate. I actually remember the library where I had previously checked this title out. When I went back to search for it again four years later it was gone. Apparently it remained too inactive and was consequently weeded out from their collection. I gather that maintaining a cultural work’s presence within the collective public consciousness is an impromptu, indefinite social contract that fails when not enough people perform their personal duty. Thankfully according to worldcat.org there was still 1 public library within a 20 mile radius of where I live that held a copy. Within a 40 mile radius I had 3 public libraries to choose from. For the library that was closest to me, I didn’t have a card that I could check it out with. Normally I might have put in an inter library loan request for the title, but because I had come into some money at the time, I decided to purchase an external DVD drive for my laptop. As long as libraries weren’t storing their DVDs in a locked case, I could just literally pull it off the shelf and watch it within the library itself. As the result of this development I began a process whereby I would trek across the greater Chicagoland area in order to get access to the films that I needed. And thus the first step towards madness was taken. Granted watching it at the library wouldn’t create a record in their system which was necessary in order to keep the DVD on the shelf. Honestly I should be thanking all the people who had checked this out prior, but sadly I’ll probably never know who you freaks are. Given the dearth of streaming options, DVDs were the only real option to access the film. Without libraries one would have to purchase a copy online or rent it from places like Facets. As for the DVD copy that I accessed, it was released by Empire Pictures, the company founded by Edmondo Schwartz and Ed Arentz in 2000. Empire gave it a rather lengthy 8 month run in theaters, or perhaps more accurately ‘theater’. It was a very limited release that would have easily been missed by us uncouth, uncultured yokels living in the vast middle part of the country.
From the first few frames I could see the craft and talent on display in how this film was photographed. Many of the shots were brilliantly constructed, showing great skill at both framing and mise-en-scène. For one, it was easy to discern the amount of thought that went into getting the spacing and positioning of the characters just perfect within a shot. Beyond that the perspectives and angles in the camerawork were exquisitely staged with an almost effortless artistry. While there was some modest use of motion with the camerawork, the most indelible images that I took away from this film were the static shots that seemed to capture the more photogenic moments of these characters’ lives.
As with other films shot in black and white, it was grounded in a tone of stark realism that this style usually embodies. However in this case the imagery also brought a touch of austere soberness to the film. For instance the mood created by the black and white photography did a great job of accentuating the quiet desperation and ennui that characterized Marcia’s life. Even without a great deal of spoken dialogue the early shots of the film effectively conveyed the tenors of Marcia’s existence. The lack of color also emphasized the shadows that get the cast in some of the shots, a tactic that the filmmakers exploited to some degree. And while the black and white tone of the film did clash with the energy of the more rash and volatile portions of the narrative, ultimately this tone felt more appropriate towards the end, when the pace of the narrative slowed considerably and the characters had to deal with the burden of death.
Beyond the imagery, there was some modest creativity in the editing as seen with the intriguing jump cut transition between the padlocks at the beginning of the film. Not only did this establish a connection between the main characters, it offered a conspicuous, symbolic hint for the direction of narrative that followed. I liked the narrative in the early portions of this film. In spite of its aimlessness, it was fun given the amount of circuitous movement that appeared to be conducted extemporaneously. There was a certain unrestrained, free-form, and serendipitous quality to the early portions of this film that made it charming. When you watch Tan de repente for the first time these qualities can also offer a certain intrigue since it’s difficult to get a grasp on where the story is headed. Granted this quality does dull a bit on repeated viewings. I also have to admit that when the story reached the residence of Lenin’s aunt, it felt much more settled to the degree that it lost most of its momentum. At this point, the film had to depend more on the personal dynamics among its ‘perfect strangers’ to maintain its charm and for the part it was successful in this effort. Thematically the film contained a modest carpe diem vibe in its reverence to the virtues of candid spontaneity. It expressed a joy in embracing the unknown and the unplanned moments in one’s life. The dialogue, which was effectively used in moderation, added some additional depth with lines that were noticeably salient and generally well written.
Some of the film’s best dialogue came in the sharp verbal sparring between Mao and Marcia. I thought Carla Crespo was good in the role of Mao, and ultimately crafted the film’s most interesting character both thematically and from an entertainment perspective. Her assault on Marcia was more psychological than anything else and contained some modest touches of dark humor, although I wouldn’t call Tan de repente a straight comedy per se. I enjoyed the aggressive forcefulness of her performance, not to mention her intelligence and confrontational tone when pestering Marcia. There was a surprising element of rationality to what she argued, even though her initial proposition dangerously approached the concept of rape. At her worst Crespo was a bit dull in her largely stoic portrayal, but even then she was not completely boring. In some of her more impassive moments like when Mao goes on a shoplifting binge, there was a certain bravado and daring in how Crespo performed the deed that was engaging.
While it’s easy to see Mao as a selfish, self-righteous bully, her ultimate aim was to unearth people’s hidden and subversive desires. I saw her character as a personification of artless chaos in the world. It was her chance temporal whim that set the whole story in motion. Without this there is no movie here. Mao was the catalyst for the entire film, which ultimately showed the power and impact in conceding to such fancies.
Tatiana Saphir gave a good performance as the sullen shop girl who initially appeared to have resigned herself to the bland inertia of modern life. In fact I think Saphir did a wonderful job of establishing the type of character who would benefit from the chaos that Mao offered. And yet she stayed true to her character in her constant annoyance at this intrusion. She also added some decent emotional heft to the film near the end. But what I really like about Saphir’s performance was the contrast that she created in relation to Mao. Marcia was too meek, humble and good-natured to ever accept the way that someone like Mao goes about living their life, and it’s fairly obvious that there could never be a relationship between the two. If Mao speaks to our repressed hedonistic desires and subdued curiosities, then Marcia speaks to our desire to simply be left alone, completely unbothered and untroubled by such temptations. There was a great deal of conflict between these two characters which both actresses embraced with good spirit.
Where this left a character like Lenin though is more uncertain. I must admit that I didn’t care too much for this character nor for the way that Veronica Hassan played the role. Hassan was simply too banal and monotone in her performance and often felt like a mere passenger in many of her scenes. Hassan didn’t consistently display the same life and personality that one perceived from the other two leads. Even when the story gave her an opportunity to flesh the character out a bit, Hassan didn’t take advantage. In the phone call scene at the end of the film there was a noticeable lack of emotion in the performance given the context of the call. I actually thought Beatriz Thibaudin who played the elderly spinster injected the film with more charm then Hassan did. Thibaudin’s character also enhanced the overall theme of the film, since she effectively played Blanca as someone who had lived more like Marcia and as a result had carried a great deal of regret to the end of her life. In contrast to Blanca, Mao seemed intent not to live with any regret at all. Granted it’s a way of life that has issues of its own, namely that she rarely develops long-lasting, sustainable relationships. The film ended with Mao seemingly sizing up the nerdy, aloof Felipe as the next target in her campaign of chaos.
Overall it’s a film that one could easily see as an artsy slog where not much happens, but the narrative inhibited qualities that made it surprisingly alluring. Plus the characters were well developed and thematically richer than what one might anticipate. It’s a curious and interesting film, if not a great one.