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Film: Undertow
Release date: 27th September 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Javier Fuentes-Leon
Starring: Tatiana Astengo, Manolo Cardona, Cristian Mercado
Genre: Drama
Studio: Axiom
Format: DVD
Country: Peru/Colombia/France/Germany
Undertow is Javier Fuentes León’s first feature film and has won several awards, including the audience award at the Sundance Film Festival. The film is, on the surface, a love triangle, but also a study of a community and one man’s dilemma, caught between familial and community responsibilities and forbidden passion.
It is the story of Miguel, a fisherman from a tiny village in Peru and his forbidden homosexual affair with Santiago; an outsider referred to by the villagers only as ‘the artist’.
Miguel is married to Mariela, who is well respected within the community, and they are expecting their first child. Miguel is torn between the acceptance of his people and his love for Santiago. Only when Santiago is drowned and returns, visible only to Miguel, can they openly be together…
Undertow is literally translated as ‘cross currents’, and that perhaps more accurately describes the main character’s internal angst. Fisherman Miguel is torn between his commitment to his wife and unborn child and his secret love for artist Santiago, between his community and his real feelings. Only when Santiago is dead can he finally have everything. One of the few moments of joy in the film is the scene in which they walk hand in hand through the village in the open for the first time, the villagers none the wiser. This is a rare moment of liberation for Miguel, who is in denial about his true feelings for most of the film. For the most part, he appears stifled.
The film perfectly captures the isolation of the village, which is surrounded by cliffs. It is never mentioned where (or when) we are, giving a sense of loneliness and separation. This separation from the outside world makes Miguel’s dilemma all the more difficult, since this place and these people are his whole world, something he cannot give up lightly. He knows that he and Santiago’s relationship will never be accepted, not only because of his wife, but because Santiago, who is openly gay, has been ostracised by the entire village, referred to only as ‘the artist’. The gay theme is not heavy-handed, however, and the scenes between Santiago and Miguel are tender, as well as erotic.
The film veers between the magical realism of Santiago’s post-death appearances, and melodrama, a sometimes uneasy blend. However, the story and characters are engaging, if simply drawn. The acting is affecting and the score simple. Everything in fact from the cinematography to the storyline is simple and uncluttered, leaving the audience free to concentrate on the sadness of the central dilemma, which we know cannot end happily.
We do not get a lot of back-story for any of the characters, and some may find this frustrating, particularly regarding Miguel’s wife Mariela. The villagers, too, often appear a little archetypal, with little depth. Mariela, although portrayed as strong is also somewhat incomplete as a character. It is the scenes between Mariela and Miguel, however, particularly in the second half of the film when she is forced to make a difficult decision that provides the most heartache.
The fishing village is beautifully shot, and the love scenes on the beach between Miguel and Santiago appear sun-drenched and idyllic. The ocean is almost a character itself, as the life of the village and its inhabitants are entirely built around it. We see Miguel taking his newborn son out to listen to the waves in one touching scene. It also acts as a metaphor for the passions that are hidden beneath the surface, and, of course, acts as an important plot device, allowing the lovers to be together after Santiago’s drowning.
The symbolism throughout is a little obvious but the story charms nonetheless. Water burial functions as a recurring motif, symbolising change and rebirth. The circular narrative enforces this; the film begins with the water burial of Miguel’s cousin and ends with that of Santiago, which Miguel has fought his wife and the prejudice of the villagers to perform; a test of his courage as a man. This ritual, the villagers believe, will allow the souls of the dead to ‘pass’. The scene is laden with his grief but also suggests that Miguel is finally free to be himself. The film’s ending is ultimately positive, and, overall, this is an enjoyable viewing experience.
Undertow manages to incorporate magical realism in order to examine a man’s identity and choices. It is beautifully shot and the performances are excellent. It may be a little heavy handed with its symbolism, and a little light on storyline and secondary character development, but the film is gorgeous to look at, and it is impossible to come away from viewing it without a degree of sadness and feeling for Miguel’s internal struggle. CP
Film: Fitzcarraldo
Release date: 21st May 2007
Certificate: PG
Running time: 151 mins
Director: Werner Herzog
Starring: Klaus Kinski, Claudia Cardinale, José Lewgoy, Miguel Ángel Fuentes, Paul Hittscher
Genre: Adventure/Drama
Studio: Anchor Bay
Format: DVD
Country: Peru/West Germany
Over the years, there have been many actor/director collaborations of note: Robert De Niro and Martin Scorsese; and Toshirō Mifune and Akira Kurosawa are a couple of the better known examples. However, few have been as intense and impassioned as the work undertaken by director Werner Herzog and actor Klaus Kinski. Continually at odds with each other, with Herzog allegedly having to direct Kinski at gunpoint for parts of their first collaboration Aguirre, Wrath Of God (1972), they managed to make four more films together. Of the five films – including a remake of the silent classic Nosferatu with Kinski as Dracula in 1979 – the most infamously arduous, and perhaps most rewarding is their penultimate effort, Fitzcarraldo.
Set in the Amazonian jungles of Peru, European entrepreneur Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald (Kinski) – referred to as Fitzcarraldo by the locales – dreams of bringing his foremost love of opera to the town of Iquitos by building a grand opera house, and having the work of his favourite tenor Enrico Caruso play there.
Being the owner of the defunct Trans-Andean railway company, the town’s tycoons – many of whom enjoying success in the booming rubber industry – are quick to ridicule and dismiss Fitzcarraldo as an eccentric dreamer. Only successful brothel owner and lover Molly (Claudia Cardinale) believes in him.
To raise the capital required, Fitzcarraldo investigates setting himself up in the rubber business. With the help of rubber industrialist and friend Don Aquilino (José Lewgoy), Fitzcarraldo finds a section of land unclaimed by the rubber companies because of its inaccessibility - cut off from boat travel because of a treacherous stretch of rapids. With Molly’s financial assistance, Fitzcarraldo buys a three storey steam boat from Aquilino, and assembles a crew to venture out to the unreachable part of the jungle with an unorthodox plan…
Despite the innumerable problems with the film’s production (unpredictable weather; losing original lead actor Jason Robards halfway through due to a bout of dysentery, and having to start the film from scratch with Kinski; getting caught in the middle of violent disputes between the local Amazonian tribes being used as extras; not to mention dwindling morale from a disheartened crew), Fitzcarraldo miraculously manages to disguise these destructive elements, and presents a serene and frequently beautiful journey about one man’s unflinching obsession.
Regardless of the fisty-cuffs that may have occurred off-camera with Herzog, Kinski easily delivers one of his finest performances – based on real-life rubber baron Carlos Fitzcarrald – with a quiet intensity that never gets too hammy or pretentious. His Fitzcarraldo is a man with a seemingly indestructible spirit, whose determination in realising his dream peaks during the film’s famous centrepiece, where hundreds of native tribes people drag his 300 tonne steamboat over a mountain to avoid the perilous rapids.
Lewgoy’s Don Aquilino and Cardinale’s Molly also stand out lending the film an ensemble feeling, as opposed to it being merely a vehicle for Kinski’s occasional scenery chewing, which is very much restrained here.
Kinski’s subtle yet energetic performance ensures that the film’s languid two-and-a-half hour run time, whilst obviously long, never drags. Fitzcarraldo’s steamboat drifts serenely through miles of unspoilt jungle; a small beacon of civilisation in an otherwise savage world, creating a sense of isolation and foreboding that simply could not be achieved in a slapdash ninety-minute edit. Herzog manages to create a strong sense of a journey being undertaken, with the film’s length allowing such progression to evolve unhurried.
Herzog’s camera is simultaneously passive and active; lingering on an image the one minute and exploring as much as possible the next - revealing inherent beauties that would otherwise go unnoticed. Fitzcarraldo’s steamboat (christened Molly after its benefactor) becomes a character in itself; a clear symbol for man’s impact on nature, especially when Fitzcarraldo and his army of tribesmen – eager to assist who they mistake to be a white god travelling on the divine vessel – cut down hundreds of yards of jungle to clear a path for the boat’s slow journey over the mountain, which is achieved through building a complex network of winches made from the cut down trees.
The iconic boat pulling sequence – the scene that is synonymous with the film – is indeed very impressive to see unfold - from clearing the path to dragging the ship up through the mud hillside. It may be interesting to note that this was all done for real by Herzog and his cast and crew, with a bit of motorised assistance. In fact, the entirety of the film was done for real. Everything was shot on location in the Amazon, and on a real boat giving the story a weathered realism that simply couldn’t be replicated on a sound stage. This, coupled with Herzog’s vérité style camerawork, suggests an almost documentarian execution that makes the transpiring events even more engrossing to watch. We want Fitzcarraldo to succeed against the obstacles placed before him, making the film’s eventual denouncement all the more involving and emotional.
Fitzcarraldo is proof positive that you don’t need large scale battles for a story to feel epic. Sadly, this kind of filmmaking is a rarity nowadays; moving an entire cast and crew out into the jungle for the best part of a year is a prospect that most modern studio financiers would balk at, but, as a result, you feel as though you’ve been on a very real journey.
Herzog’s quirky humour is also present: the steamboat’s captain working out which tributary they are sailing on by tasting the water, and the image of an opera being transported on a fleet of small boats compete with instruments, performers in costume and false battlements crammed on (and hanging off the sides) are but two of the film’s stranger moments, providing welcome light relief. There are magic realist touches in the form of Fitzcarraldo’s beloved gramophone playing his idol Caruso for all the jungle to hear, with events turning to his favour each time the record is played.
In a way, Fitzcarraldo has some similarities to the positively nightmarish Apocalypse Now (1979) filmed a few years prior, or better still its literary source: Joseph Conrad’s Heart Of Darkness. Both works feature a group of people travelling up river through unfriendly lands (the Amazon in Fitzcarraldo and the African Congo in Heart Of Darkness) led by a man driven by obsession.
Its dreamy pace may dissuade some viewers, but Fitzcarraldo is a terrific and rewarding cinematic achievement, and a testament to Werner Herzog’s determination to realise his vision, rivalled only by the determination of the film’s eponymous lead. Despite the frequent, sometimes massive setbacks during the film’s production (painfully captured in Les Blanks’ making of Burden Of Dreams, which is included in the 25th Anniversary set), the film is wonderfully executed and remains coherent and interesting until its final satisfying moments. MP
