ARGENTINA FATHERS & SONS, THE REVIVAL OF THE ARGENTINIAN CINEMA
(Program of the
24th Festival of the 3 Continents, November 2002)
There is currently
a deep change in the structure of Argentinian cinema which has traditionally
been of a mainly commercial and industrial nature. Over the last two
years, a major cultural transformation has made it possible for a new
generation of film-makers, who tell the problems of the youth with realism,
to come to the fore.
One can also note
a metaphorical effort expressing with a sort of boisterous irony what
is, after all, the tragedy of unemployment, the destruction and instability
of governments due to the gigantic external debt, as well as the future
of young adults. The increasing number of film schools largely contributes
to providing this intimist cinema with a solid technical basis.
In early 1998,
Pizza, birra, faso, made by Adrian Caetano and Bruno Stagnaro, both
in their twenties, was discovered by filmgoers. It was a promising film
that suggested other similar films would follow.
Pizza, birra, faso
marks the beginning of an odd review of characters who reflected domestic
migration. With Mala época (1998), a collective film made by
the Universidad del Cine, the review turned into an inventory of individuals
from Argentina's neighbouring countries - Paraguayan, Bolivian and Peruvian
migrants never portrayed until then in Argentinian cinema. Both films
avoid the picturesque and give a realistic rendition of the charactersÕ
private lives.
Mundo Grúa
(1999) was made in the same spirit, in black-and-white 16mm, then blown
up onto 35mm. Pablo Trapero, its director, then a student at the Universidad
del Cine, shot it during weekends in Buenos Aires and a popular district
in Patagonia. This light comedy describes the harsh daily life of a
crane operator who loses his job several times - a dreadful situation
in a country so severely hit by unemployment.
Its description
of a man's, and society's, hardships made Mundo Grúa a reference
for the young generation of film-makers.
Like Mundo Grúa,
Martin Rejtman's Silvia Prieto (1999) is another film made up of minimal
stories. Silvia Prieto is a woman who hates other women who share her
name and who is scared that her own personality might melt into each
of these other women to such an extent that she might not be any of
them. Faced with such a strange affliction, she finds comfort in coming
to terms with who she is.
Silvia Prieto is
Martin Rejtman's second feature. His first one was Rapado (1996) which
was not very successful. In this film, the film-maker drew an ironic,
obsessing and perverse sketch of the world as we know it, stretching
it to feverish, zany and joyful limits.
Despite this new
batch of film-makers, there are fears that, once the passing fancy has
subsided and due to the lack of funds and infrastructure, they will
not be able to make a second film.
One gets the impression
that these films express disillusion, yet do not offer any constructive
criticism of the reality they describe so painstakingly. They do not
attempt to amend reality, they only show it as it is within a personal
story. Their aim is not to make masterpieces; they get their inspiration
from daily life and the simplicity of a familiar environment. They stand
out for their great sensitivity and a definite ethical outlook.
This year three
films gained some sort of recognition in international festivals: Lisandro
Alonso's La Libertad (2001, first film), Adrian Caetano's Bolivia (1999-2001)
and Lucrecia Martel's La Ciénaga (2000-2001, first film).
La Libertad is a
stylistic composition in pure cinema resting mainly on the image, with
a practically non-existent story (a lumberjack chops down a tree, sells
the wood and swallows a rodent). A very intense film, La Libertad gets
the viewer involved regardless of the story. A tension grows between
the film-maker's minimalist vision and a yearning for action.
La Ciénaga
promises the onset of a great career for beginner Lucrecia Martel. It
tells the story of two declining families of northern Argentina, oppressed
by the social context and the heat. The most interesting aspect of the
film is its use of the language of images. It has a very dense filmic
style which comes between the unfolding story and the viewer who is
disturbed by the impression left by the visual texture and the thin
plot. La Ciénaga is a remarkable film.
Young directors
do not feel all-powerful. They are aware they belong to a small corner
of the globe and do not attempt to change it, unlike the 1960s Argentinian
avant-garde film-makers driven by the desire to set up a new world.
The new generation
looks at the dark depths of reality and do not bother with the surface
of things. Its aesthetics is two-fold as it deals with the textually
signified from a minimalist, non-conformist point of view.
The new directors'
language is dominated by the illegible: nothing they say is meant to
preserve or change habits. Relationships between the characters and
the action are more important than the plot which loses itself in its
own narration. Minimalist dialogue makes way for visual language and
narrative construction as well as editing - the ultimate film-writing.
This new movement
has been labelled "the independents" in relation to an international
protest attitude against the big film industry. Through their efforts,
they claim to be followers of Jean-Luc Godard, John Cassavettes or Paul
Morrissey. They have the economic and moral support of the Sundance
and Rotterdam film festivals. Today they have their own independent
festival in Buenos Aires where they can show their films.
Currently, the
general public prefers commercial productions such as Marcelo Piñeiro's
Plata quemada (2000). Piñeiro would love to be an "auteur" -
he is only good at making commercial films which are safer in terms
of box office.
In the same vein
we can mention two great successes, beginner Fabian Bielinski's Nueve
reinas (2000) and Juan José Campanella's El hijo de la novia
(2001). With a questionable artistic sense, these directors benefit
from the financial support of television to make commercially-oriented
- and hopefully profitable - films. About a million viewers saw each
of these films.
The big theatrical
networks are yet to show an interest in young film-makers while films
do get made by authors in their own right. But they lack a more supportive
distribution system for their new way of making films in Argentina.
This year, Pablo
Trapero and Adrian Caetano both presented their second films at Cannes,
El Bonaerense (2002) and Un oso rojo (2002) respectively.
Claudio España
film critic and teacher at the University of Buenos Aires,
Artistic Director, Mar del Plata International Film Festival
November 2002
See the Argentinian
programme of the 24th Festival des 3 Continents, November 2002