Film: Alamar
Release date: 28th February 2011
Certificate: U
Running time: 73 mins
Director: Pedro González‐Rubio
Starring: Jorge Machado, Roberta Palombini, Natan Machado Palombini, Néstor Marín
Genre: Documentary/Drama/Family
Studio: New Wave
Format: DVD
Country: Mexico
The young Mexican director Pedro González-Rubio made his film debut in 2005 with Toro Negro, and recently picked up the top prize at the 2010 Rotterdam Film Festival with his second feature Alamar. A strange mix of fact and subtle direction, Alamar tells a simple story of intimate family relationships in a beautiful exotic location.
A five minute still picture montage opens Alamar, with snapshots and a voiceover telling the story of an intense but ultimately short-lived romance between an Italian woman, Roberta, and Jorge, a Mexican fisherman. Their fling produced a son, Natan, whom both parents adore.
Natan’s mother has made the decision to leave Mexico and move to Rome, taking Natan with her. Alamar follows Natan as he spends one last week with his father on the coral reef of Banco Chinchorro in the Caribbean off the Mexican coast, living the traditional life of a fisherman in a wooden hut raised above the ocean on stilts. A million miles from the city, the days are about a simple, idyllic routine of fishing, cooking and eating…
González-Rubio’s camerawork is deceptively simple. Rather than trying to enhance the environment with artifice, he frames his shots and lingers on them, allowing the landscape to speak for itself. It is an approach which speaks volumes about the confidence with which he has approached his subject. Many filmmakers would not have the courage to attempt such a rejection of technique, but González-Rubio’s audacity pays off, because in Alamar it works beautifully. By relying so heavily on his subject, we are pulled slowly and completely into the world these characters inhabit, and before long, it almost seems impossible that anything could exist outside of the ocean, the beach and the stilted huts. By simply documenting, González-Rubio allows his subject to sing.
In one charming sequence, an African egret bird appears at the hut from over the sea looking for food. Over the course of a few scenes, the bird – which they name ‘Blanquita’ - grows gradually more confident, eventually eating bugs out of their hands, and even clambering up on Natan’s arm to be fed. We see Jorge’s relationship with Natan mirror the bond he shares with his own father, as Jorge’s father joins them. As Jorge teaches his son to snorkel, spear fish and to cook their catch in the evenings, you know that his father has done just the same before him, and that this simple tradition of handing down skills has happened just this way for generations. It is a world a million miles apart from the one most of us inhabit, and which Natan is destined for in the hectic bustle of Rome. It’s hard not to look upon his life in Mexico positively in contrast to what he can expect from his life with his mother in the very modern world. After the bliss of Banco Chinchorro, when it comes time for Natan to go home, it’s as difficult for us as it is for his father and grandfather.
González-Rubio has managed to capture extraordinarily intimate glimpses in this close relationship between a father and son. It is remarkable to watch tiny, extraordinary intimacies exchanged in front of the camera; minutiae which is normally lost among the lights and the show of a feature film, and even to the keen eye of a documentary camera. At times, you might be forgiven for thinking this level of exposure is too good to be true – and you might just be right. While the film is certainly based in fact - this really is Natan’s last week with his father before he moves back to Rome - to capture the film he wanted, elements of Alamar were staged, and the characters were directed by González-Rubio to produce the effect he desired. It can be seen that Jorge, Roberta and Natan are actors playing themselves in their own life, and to this effect, ‘docu-drama’ might be the most appropriate title for what González-Rubio has created. When he was asked at the Toronto film festival whether Alamar is documentary or fiction, the director refused to answer the question directly. “It is a film,” he replied. This refusal to clarify the intention behind his feature will frustrate many who will struggle to put a label on exactly what it is, but the question is largely inconsequential. The portrayal of close family bonds; the pleasures of a simple, honest life, and of living in harmony with nature are not affected by the degree of González-Rubio’s manipulation, and the film should really not be judged as such.
In Alamar, González-Rubio’s has created a work of simple beauty, which portrays a magical slice of one boy’s life, and the extraordinary relationship he shares with his closest family. In the best way, the film makes us examine ourselves, our own lives, and the relationships we maintain with those around us. LOZ
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