
What feels home to a man who killed his brothers ? Heading into wild ? Wending his way downriver and Leaving his past behind?
I went to see Los Muertos from Lisandro Alonso who is an Argentine film director. The story is about a convicted murderer named Vargas (Argentino Vargas) released from prison after 20 years and travels by boat through the jungle to see his daughter. Vargas as a Man is a story in itself, fiercely alive. While navigating his new life everything seems already known, and unsurprising. Even at the end where he abruptly fades away and abandoned the viewer, breathless, with some children’s toys, chicken and rustling leaves.
Quiet, beautiful, fantomatic, uncanny, everyday vernacular with lots of gloom. Long uninterrupted shots of lush vegetation, sunlight, a lonesome room, a wordless lunch, small folding chairs, a haircut, even a blow job, a swampy river, his white shirt (this obsessed me) bees, goat, blood : nature in real time, infinite time. Each moment is desperate.
Los Muertos – and probably every Alonso’s films, are very important to see. I loved every minutes of it, even the guitar’s tunings at the end who brought me back to (concrete) life.
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Trailer here
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