The idea of an international cinema, something that exists outside the traditional structures of Hollywood, is fraught with problems. Yes, there is a world of cinema that resides on the festival circuit, free — some by choice, others not — of the financial “support” of multinational corporations. But the festival ecosystem provides its own structure, with certain filmmakers, even certain countries, receiving more support than others. There’s also the question of marketing. The artists associated with the Berlin School and the New Romanian Cinema, two recent examples, share aesthetic or thematic concerns and are easy to write about as distinct groups. In the recent cinema coming out of Mexico, highlighted in a fine program at New York’s Anthology Film Archives through September 12, there is no such unity, which makes it harder to consider as a whole. Its varied nature doesn’t suggest a lack of focus but a cinema that is bursting with energy.
Nicolás Pereda is one of the most well known, and interesting, of the new breed of Mexican filmmakers, and his latest film, as the title suggests, is something of a culmination of past efforts. “Greatest Hits” brings together Pereda with Gabino Rodriguez and Teresa Sanchez, regular collaborators, in a story that sees a husband/father return to a family after a long absence. But Pereda breaks up the narrative, leaving the audience with shards of a story, changing actors midway through, and repeating the same scene over and over in slightly different variations. The film is often very funny (at one moment, a character enters and waits for the soundtrack music to stop before delivering his lines) and the deadpan delivery, combined with Pereda’s insistence on reminding the viewer that what they’re watching is artifice, playfully chides our standard modes of watching film.
Formally, Michel Lipkes’s “Malaventura” may share similar sensibilities — a penchant for long takes and static framing — with “Greatest Hits,” but its foundation couldn’t be more different. The slow-moving story of an old man, who over the course of a day roams the streets of Mexico City, owes a debt to the Italian neorealists, most notably Vittorio De Sica’s “Umberto D.” Its tone is more contemplative and less playful, and more concerned with traditional narrative, even if it’s stripped down to its barest essence.
The series also includes Pedro Gonzalez-Rubio’s “Inori,” which takes place in Japan and won the Golden Leopard at the Locarno Film Festival; Michel Franco’s “After Lucia,” which won the top prize in the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival; and Natalia Beristáin’s “She Doesn’t Want to Sleep Alone,” which premiered at the Venice Film Festival, among others.
But the best film of the series may be its most traditional. Eugenio Polgovsky’s “Mitote” is ostensibly a documentary about the Zócalo, the historic center of Mexico City where people from all walks of life come together. Just last week, thousands of teachers took to the square to strike, and people have been gathering there since the Aztec times. The Zócalo is at the fulcrum of local culture, where art, politics, and religion meet, and Polgovsky lets his camera roam the square, quietly capturing the atmosphere. We see everything from marching bands to antiwar protesters to neighborhood weirdos to religious ceremonies. The film is wide-ranging and diverse, and perfectly captures the spirit of Mexican cinema as it is right now.
