Whisky

This movie is a true gem. Perhaps not for everyone, but those who can appreciate subtle, sensitive films will not be disappointed. In fact, subtlety is the keyword in this film. Nothing is spelled out, nobody even raises his voice, and still the story is full of emotion. It's all about small gestures and unspoken words. Take the way the viewer initially discovers that Hernan is richer and more successful than his brother Jacobo. There's nothing about Hernan's clothing or his behaviour that suggests this, but Jacobo suspects that the pair of socks his brother gave him are more expensive than the pair Jacobo gave his brother. The movie is packed with these kind of small signals, and that is exactly its strength, together with the superb acting and the nice locations (the soccer stadium!). In that way, the movie is comparable to Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki's style.

There's much to appreciate, and yes the repetitive nature of much of the film (perfectly represented by the whirring of the machines in the factory) is part of its allure and yet...in some respects I can't disagree with those who hurled horrible ratings at this film. It IS tedious. That doesn't mean it's not worth watching, but I have to admit it's hard to give boundless kudos to something that barely keeps your attention at times. I've never seen a film where the same things that make it brilliant, also make it dull and hard to watch.

A struggling Uruguayan businessman persuades his equally unglamourous assistant to pretend to be his wife in order to impress his estranged brother. If this conjures up thoughts of 'The Birdcage', or you imagine a riotous South American carnival of a film, you'd best prepare yourself otherwise, for 'Whisky' is characterised by almost exaggeratedly understated acting and a bone dry humour;, and its real subject matter is the psychology of failure. At start, it feels slow, but as one gets used to the characters, one sees more of the joke and sadness in the subtle plot. There are some resemblances to early Jarmusch, but even so, it's questionable whether one can make a wholly successful movie when quite so little explicit happens. In Uruguay, incidentally, they say "whisky" instead of "cheese" when a photograph is taken; but the deeper meaning of the film's title remains elusive at its end.

I recently saw this masterpiece of Latin American cinema. I've always taught that you don't need a big budget to make a big movie. Great movies relay on a great message, a solid statement. On this particular case "Whisky" from the beginning makes a point through its own images and pace. The viewer gets immersed in a routine, a horrible way of life of the main character (Jacobo Koller) that consists of living with no ambition, owning a horrible sock factory and going home with nothing... not a smile, not a desire, nothing, just the same routine over and over again. At the beginning when we see the same shots over and over, it seems like the movie is insisting upon itself, but is too important to state the point of the routine. We, as viewers get tired of watching this terrible life, imagine what it would be to live this life. When the main characters brother (Herman Koller) comes to Uruguay (a far more successful,and younger brother, that lives in Brazil), Jacobo asks Marta (an employee of his) to pretend she's his wife, probably to avoid criticism from his brother and to bare his brother's trip to Uruguay with someone else. Marta has the same features as Jacobo she lives a life of routine, with no surprises, nothing to take her out of her boredom. She's shy, and retrieved within herself, there will be a couple of scenes when we can see that probably Marta has been like this since she was a girl. Her relationship with Herman grows, she's in movement she wants something new. As for Jacobo he doesn't feel anything for life he's pessimistic, stubborn, a man with no dreams. The movie invites us to review our own life, are we going in a direction of routine and boredom? or are we looking for something new? Sometimes we can find that breath of life in the smallest of places, in the most unconventional of places, a book, a movie, a song, a trip, a person anything can give us something to live. Marta surely received that breath, and we all can.

Another reviewer's summary of this Uruguayan film is 'the psychology of failure' and I think that is probably a perfect description. This film is so subtle and understated that the vein of humour that runs through it - sardonic, dry and immaculately observed - will pass many people by. The mundanity of life, and the failure of some to see the fact that moments of happiness and relief can be wrestled from such an existence only by those with the vision and desire to do so, is reinforced by strands deliberately left untied. This film won't be for all tastes, but for those with the patience to watch beyond a slow (but necessarily so) opening act, it will prove to be a film worth watching.