a |
FOREIGN CLASSICS
I think it is possible
to argue that Tuna's film and mine have a lot in
common. They represent two of the ten best
foreign films of the 1990's, they are both family
stories covering multiple generations, both
filled with banquets, and they both are told from
the women's POV.
"Como
Agua Para Chocolate", from Johnny Web
I finally saw "Like
Water for Chocolate", which is a classic
example of magical realism translated to the
screen. In short, the youngest daughter of a
prosperous fin de siecle Mexican family is
forbidden to marry and have children until her
mother dies. As a result of this family
tradition, the great love of her life goes to her
oldest sister. He, in turn, reciprocates her love
and marries the oldest sister so he can be near
the youngest.
Magical Realism is a
very powerful strain in the fiction of Latin
America, and I'm not all that comfortable with
it. I always wonder if they want me to believe
that these people are real or not. I suppose my
brain is too compartamentalized, but I want fairy
tale characters to be able to transcend reality,
ala Princess Bride, but I like real people to
abide by natural law. However, many people like
this kind of approach, and Gabriel Garcia Marques
won a Nobel Prize for writing it well. Some
examples The star's cooking has magical
properties. With her passion foiled in life, she
pours it into her food, and it produces
remarkable results. When her tears fall into her
sister's wedding cake, it causes everyone who
eats it to cry. Other times her food makes skin
smoke, and acts as aphrodisiac, magnet, panacea,
etc. When the lovers actually get together,
sparks fly. Literally. And their lovemaking
causes lightning, stock market fluctuations,
revolutions, and mysterious changes in hat sizes.
Maybe I made some of that up. When she rides off
to Texas, the train of her dress, dragging behind
the wagon, is of infinite length. That must be
one strong horse. Oh, well, having confessed my
discomfort with magical realism, let me not
hesitate to remind people that the importance of
a literary technique is the effect it produces.
Magical realism, like any written figure of
speech, can help to produce an emotional
response, or to help us get our minds around
certain concepts and feelings.
Forgetting my personal
biases for a minute, I think you can find some
legitimate things to ctiticize in this movie. The
characters are really cardboard and
uninteresting, especially Pedro, the dashing love
of her life. I kept wondering what these two
would talk about if they ever had a chance to
have a conversation. And the domineering mother
is a complete cartoon, unrecognizable as a
person, rather like the standard wicked
stopmother in those Disney stories. The film only
makes use of about 10% of the pallette. It's
virtually a black-and-white movie, except
substituting brown for black and faint orange for
white. Those just aren't my favorite colors -
although they lend a dreamy old time sepia
photograph quality to the story which is, after
all, a recollection of family stories by a
great-niece in our own times. And the corny
ending just stretches ones credulity beyond all
reason. And the pacing of some scenes is so-o-o
slow.
I've whined so much
about this movie you'd think it was Plan 9 or
something, and I've given you a false impression.
Despite everything I've said, it has a certain
undefinable - "magic". It has a
charming and gentle way of treating very serious
and depressing subjects in a "OK, let's get
on with life" way, ala Kurt Vonnegut. I
guess Vonnegut himself is a magical realist, now
that I think of it. And I did really get
involved, and kept hoping the lovers would figure
it all out without hurting their friends and
family. And I guess that justifies magical
realism - it produced the response from me that
it was supposed to produce, despite my crabbing
about it.
I guess it's just like
reading Dickens. You have to accept his rules,
even if you think they're dumb, and know that any
beggar you mistreat will undoubtedly be the king
in disguise or your long-lost father. If you buy
into the fact that only 11 people live in London,
and they keep running into each other, you can
enjoy Dickens, and get a lot out of his work.
Magical realism requires the same participation
from you. You just have to play along, enter into
its leisurely pace and accept its conventions,
and then it lends you some of its warmth, and
you're happier for it.
I have Lumi Cavazos, the
star, in today's edition. The other women will
appear in subsequent editions. Lumi got naked
from about every angle, so that wasn't so bad.
Unfortunately, the nudity was that candlelit
type, like Salma in Desperado.
Lumi Cavazos (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8)
"Antonia's
Line", from Tuna
This is a really
excellent Dutch movie which I have previously
discussed, and which I like a lot. If I could
keep only one European film from the 1990's, I'd
keep this one over Life is Beautiful or Il
Postino. (I don't know if it would be my final
selection. I'd have to think about it some more.)
NEW FEATURE. If you love Tuna's
work but are daunted by the quantity of his
output, this might help. Click here for a
thumbnail index of all of Tuna's pics from this
film. Study the index first, the download the
ones you want
Els Dottermans (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, #7) Elsie DeBrauw (#1, #2, #3, #4)
GR's
corner
Kathy Shower in "Sexual
Malice" Samantha Phillips in "Sexual
Malice" Sheeri Rappaport in "Little
Witches" Jimmy's movie
Film clip of Joanna Lumley in "Games
Lovers Play".
Still caps above in Jimmy's column.
|
a |