El Vecino

"The Neighbor" is an unnerving psychological thriller from Director Giancarlo Ruiz that follows "Raul" – a Voyeur whose psychosis escalates to violence when he becomes fixated on, and eventually, abducts, his neighbor's wife.

The Narrative Plot of the film is fairly straightforward, but it's Ruiz's frenetic style that makes this film so unsettling. The tone and pace mirror the state of mind of a very troubled soul engaged in an endurance contest with his much more sinister alter-ego. Everything from the camera-work to the sound design to the original scoring of the film is meant to serve that purpose. Paco Mufote gives an impressive performance as "Raul," flipping with disturbing ease from guilt-ridden Voyeur to Predator lying in wait.

When we first meet him, he is running through the streets in a clown costume, covered in blood. This scene begins the film but is taken out of sequence. (Don't worry, I won't give the ending away!) We immediately cut to the POV as seen through a Hi-8 video Camcorder, and wielded by a much more cautious, unassuming Raul. Personally I'm a little over the found-footage look, but Ruiz is careful not to overuse the cinematic tool. It's effectively creepy and gives the Viewer access into how this Raul (I will explain in a moment) sees the world. This camera lens is a sort of protective shield from, well, Realism. We rarely see him without it and when he speaks, it's almost childlike "Little bird, little bird.. where are you?" He also carries a small dog under one arm. The thing that truly ASTONISHED me as I was watching was that I thought to myself "This guy is an oddball, creepy, yes, but harmless.. And he has a dog!"

Raul lives in an empty studio apartment with bare-white walls, completely devoid of any furniture. His window is blocked out with newspaper and tape. He runs in circles around the room every now and then pausing at the covered window. Hesitant, he lifts a taped corner and there SHE is.. Alejandra Martinez, twenty-nine, the object of Raul's obsession, hanging her lacy delicates on the clothesline just outside his window.

Alex and Alejandra Martinez live in the flat below. Raul has constant audio surveillance on the couple, portrayed by Isabel Orizaga and Sergio Valdez, recording and listening in on their every conversation. He learns of their marital problems, how they met at the Circus, every intimate detail of their lives. The audio surveillance is more than just a part of the plot, Ruiz uses it to facilitate a unique piece of sound design. Raul often fast-forwards through anything that doesn't feed his fantastical fetish. Mundane conversation is sped-through resulting in high-pitched gibberish, while other words or phrases, particularly those spoken by Alejandra captivate his attention and he will play them over and over again as if consuming her words and making them a part of his story. It's an effective tool of showing how the editing of emotional matter in the lives of others becomes immersed within him and when his darker, predatory self takes over, he is able to hear only what he wishes. (Well- demonstrated when the audio is out of sync or altered as the characters speak.)

Then we meet another Raul – this Man struts up the street with the confidence of a gigolo. He wears shades, carries a gun and runs around the rooftop of his building firing empty chambers. This is a different man, perhaps not yet dangerous but getting impatient and ready for action. The Music changes when Raul shifts from his reluctant voyeuristic self to the brazen, greedy, predator who is preparing to make his move.

The film is designed to provoke interpretive discussion. Every shot, every element of set design, every choice of music or editing sequence is to reflect Raul's inner turmoil and eventual consumption by his dark desires and violent machinations. Something that I found most unique and remarkable is a technique of freezing frame so that we are watching a series of still shots while the dialogue occurring in real time continues without pause. It's an effective technique to further show the disassociation of Raul from making any genuine connections to the world/people/friends around him.

Overall, this is an impressive film with many layers and a compendium of stylistic, directorial maneuvers. Ruiz is not afraid to go off the border and explore different genres of film. "The Neighbor" is a provocative thriller with an avant-garde twist that also explores some serious sociological and cultural issues with identity and learned behavior according to what society deems politically correct. Why is it that we are so concerned with being "polite" that we would go against our human instinct so as not to be perceived as rude when we innately feel a threat is near? With the characterization of the Martinez's, Ruiz makes some disturbing ruminations on why we so often ignore our primal senses when something sinister is close at hand.

It might be just next door…

Shevaun Cavanaugh Kastl/Cult Critic/CICFF