Bardo. Falsa crónica de unas cuantas verdades

What a terrible shame that BARDO is only gonna be shown on Netflix. Although Netflix produced this year's greatest films, it's a shame that those films will never play on the big screens. So you can imagine how honoured and grateful I was to attend a preview of BARDO with Alejandro G. Inarritu, one of my favourite directors of all time, who came himself and presented his film. You could tell how happy he was to present the film, as it clearly is his most personal and intimate work to date.

I was hoping for the best, but didn't expect too much as the film received quite mixed first reviews from Venice and other previews. That's why I wasn't prepared for the journey Inarritu would take me on for the next three hours. BARDO isn't only easily the best film of the year so far, it was also one of the most beautiful and profound cinematic experiences I've had in my life - that's the reason why I started my review by saying that it's a shame most people will only experience this on their TV. It's really a shame. The images Inarritu and his godlike DoP Darius Khondji produce here are far beyond incredible. The first half hour of the film, I constantly had goosebumps because of the sheer beauty of this film. I often say that I deeply appreciate when a film invents new, unseen images, when the team behind the film almost invent a new cinematic language. They absolutely do here.

The film might feel too long for some, pretentious for others, but it was just the film I was waiting for since a long time, not knowing I was until I've watched it. It was one of these rare films which I didn't ever want to end, and the fact that I knew it was going to run for three hours actually comforted me many times throughout the sublime time I had watching this.

BARDO is undoubtedly Inarritu's most ambitious film yet, this film feels - and is - HUGE. It's an incredible homage to the country Mexico (I've sat through the whole endless credits and he literally only hired Mexicans to work on this film), but moreover, it's one of the most touching and honest films about family. Where in many films depicting family relationships can feel cheesy and superfluous, here it really worked, and moved me in a way no other film did. That is also due to the fact that all actors are nothing less than absolutely outstanding. Led by the revelation of the year, Daniel Giménez Cacho, who plays the role of Silverio and easily carries the very heavy weight of this opus on his shoulders, the film already had a complex character who you could easily identify with. But every actor until the last smallest supporting role was cast perfectly and contributed to this film.

Bardo reads like a poem, as Inarritu speaks in metaphors one more beautiful and thoughtful than the other. It's layered, complex, absurd, dreamlike, moving, breathtakingly beautiful, visionary and ambitious - one of the best films I've seen in my life and a film which will have a place in my heart for a very long time.

From the very first scene of a shadow leaping into the desert air, you know that you are in for something extraordinarily fantastic. At its core it is the fantastically surreal retrospective of fictional Mexican journalist Silverio on the verge of receiving American and Mexican awards for his latest documentary. Every professional and personal interaction he has with family, friends and coworkers is eventually deconstructed as his story adds and peels away layers of humanity.

Much like Forrest Gump, Cinema Paradiso, or even the Little Prince, there is no task or goal to achieve, no plot device or macguffin to chase... it's the nostalgic tale of one man's life experience. It is impossible to convey how effortlessly each scene blends to the next with calculated disregard for the passage of time and the spacial relationships of people and objects. Iñárritu has one-upped Fellini and two-upped Terry Gilliam as every set piece, every camera composition and every performance creates amazing visuals that will stay with you long after you've left the theater.

Cinema is still capable of provoking great surprises. I had low expectations for this film. Even in other Iñarritu's works, I can see some of his "artistic arrogance", so I thought that a markedly surrealist semi-biographical work could only result in an enormous masturbatory exercise that at every corner felt superior to its spectator. It was not the case.

For several minutes I wasn't sure if I was enjoying what I was watching or not, but I was always intrigued. The concept borrows heavily from classics like Fellini 8 ½, but Iñarritu adds high doses of surrealism that demonstrate other influences. Some of these influences can come from very close, with Buñuel at the head. For you to understand what kind of surrealism this is, suffice it to say that the opening scene of the film is that of a birth in which the doctors realize that the baby does not intend to leave and then they do the reverse process of birth so that the baby comes back to where it came from. Of course, this is metaphorical and of course, there is a less comic and much more dramatic explanation for the real events, but you couldn't ask for a more out-of-the-ordinary scene that would immediately alienate anyone who likes works based solely on reality and on a well-defined and classic narrative.

These types of scenes are repeated throughout several episodes of the film - and, perhaps, the lack of connection between them is a negative aspect of the film -, but what at first seems to be just black humour through surrealist expressiveness quickly turns into what are the main themes of the film. This is mainly about finding your identity, so the themes are very personal for Iñarritu - who, incidentally, speaks of this film as something semi-biographical... - and are for many more people. When Silverio (Daniel Cacho), the main character, talks about imposter syndrome, he knows he is talking to artists. When he talks about living between two countries, wanting to feel at home in both, but not feeling at home in either of them, he speaks to the millions of emigrants around the world. When he talks about Amazon buying a Mexican state, he knows what he means about capitalism and corporatism. As he knows when he has a fascinating conversation with a colonizer - yes, from the distant past! - or when he addresses the luxury within the misery in which many live in Mexico or... when he also criticizes North American society and its lack of empathy. All this is done very smartly by Iñarritu. Everything is brutally aggressive, but everything is also done through that layer of a living dream that could make everything easier to swallow.

Still, I don't think this movie is for everyone. It is not. In a film by an artist about an artist - very much about himself - it is not surprising that the Mexican filmmaker has gone overboard here and there, whether in the length of the scenes (and to think that this was already heavily edited and cut after the festivals circuit!) or in some visual exaggerations that seem to be there just for shock effect. In any case, the positives largely outweigh the negatives, with a whole range of good technical arguments to highlight, from fantastic cinematography - brutal open shots, warm colours, a living camera - to a strong and very characteristic score that perfectly fits the tone of the film.

This is a film destined to be misunderstood as are all those who live between two worlds. Living between two countries and two cultures. Living between the real world and the imaginary (artistic). Inãrritu, at times, abuses from a certain pretentiousness in the way he uses surrealism, but in the end, he won me over through unique and original scenes and, above all, through what he has to say and how he says it.

After finishing this film, I sit in an empty theater, reflecting on what I have seen. The essence of this deeply personal message floating just under the surface of the film is complex. What should I think? Or more important, what should I feel?

I can only answer as a man who has lived over 60 years. I witnessed many "shared" moments in the film, images and memories where I look back on my life and either smile or shed a tear.

The beauty in this film lies in its "truth" which to me is the honest self reflection on a life spent. We all only have a certain amount of life to spend. No do overs. So when we all approach the waning moments of our lives, we look back on those little life pleasures, the painful moments, and the regrets we all have.

And the TRUTH of our own individual lives flashes before us all.

Director Alejandro Iñarritu has reached a point in his career where he gave himself the opportunity to create a film based on his own life and his existential crisis with living between two cities. The city of Los Angeles, and Mexico City which is the one he had to "escape" in order to grow as a person, leaving his loved ones and his origins.

Actor Daniel Gimenez Cacho portrays the image of Iñárritu in a series of events that affected his life. At the same time, the story makes references to a beautiful, corrupted Mexico that the director needed to leave behind because of its cultural and political decadence. It is not a film for everyone, since not only someone who has not seen what Mexico was and has become could notice it, but someone who does not know the director's life could identify with it, given the fact that the movie is all about resemblances to those two.

But the cinematography of the movie itself makes the story worth of telling.

If you want to watch this movie expecting entertainment, you won't enjoy it. But if you are open to see and listen to what the director wants to tell about his personal life and what Mexico means to him, then you will love it.

People will say this movie is pretentious and narcissistic.. but, is it?

If you had the money and the opportunity to film an important part of your life and you want to express the love you feel for your country of origin , would you do it?

Me the writer, I would.

Is the movie perfect? It's not.

Is the movie beautifully done? It is.

Will people like it? It will depend on who's watching.