Rudo y Cursi Review
Posted by Erik Luers on 05.19.2009
Asi asi.......
Gael García Bernal ... Tato
Diego Luna ... Beto
Guillermo Francella ... Batuta
Dolores Heredia ... Elvira
Adriana Paz ... Toña
Jessica Mas ... Maya
Salvador Zerboni ... Jorge W
Tania Esmeralda Aguilar ... Nadia
Joaquín Cosio ... Arnulfo
Alfredo Alfonso ... Don Casimiro
Fermín Martínez ... DT. Obdulio
Eduardo Von ... DT. Bruno Lopéz
You don't have to sit down and view Carlos Cuarón's new film, Rudo y Cursi, to claim that you've seen it. I mean, I do, I'm the reviewer, but others may live more prosperous lives than thou, and to them I offer this simple bit of advice: don't waste your time. The film is routine and goes through the motions quicker than the sex life of a couple who has been married for over thirty years. That's a little harsh, but what can you do? The film isn't necessarily bad, but it's harmless, and that is not meant as a compliment or prestigious honor. We follow two poor brothers, both in the successful and stable banana business, who enjoy playing soccer in their spare time. One day, they help a man on the side of the road (he has car trouble), and he reveals to them that he can make them both professional soccer players. Their big break has finally come.
Okay, I cheated a little there. The guy actually says that he can only take one of the brothers to Mexico City, but it wouldn't be much of a spoiler to tell you that eventually both brothers turn pro, albeit for rival teams. You may ask, will the instant fame and lure for inevitable super stardom go to their heads, destroying their kinship and families back at home? Will their soccer careers go up in flames as they carelessly spend more and more money on pricey, useless material items? Will the two brothers' teams face off against one another in the finale as the camera captures each bead of sweat that down their face in needless closeup? The answer to all three of these questions is yes, and the answer to whether or not you'll enjoy this movie is.....I hope not.
As the brothers gain success, we constantly hear about how Tato (Gael Garcia Bernal) wants to become a pop star, singing songs with lyrics that have worldwide appeal such as, "I want you to want me. I need you to need me...." ad nauseaum. This idea is in itself funny because it delves into some truths; many sports stars today want to cross over into other entertainment outlets (remember Shaquille O' Neal's rap career, or Dennis Rodman's attempt at screen acting? You don't?), so we smile at this. We also smile (and our moods brighten) as we witness "Cursi's"— he is given this feminine nickname by the ever quick to categorize press— music video play on a local music station. It's lame, dull, and monotonous, and yet Tato can't seem to get enough of it. He has promotional posters of himself all around his new expensive home, and these are some very comical moments; we laugh because of his narcissistic nature. You may get the feeling that the film was built around that one memorable sequence.
But wait, isn't the game of soccer, or football as it is correctly called in most other parts of the world, the real driving force behind this movie? Aren't there multiple symbolic moments that try to make a philosophical connection between the brothers and the game that they would die to play? Well, not really. The soccer scenes are fairly routine and unmemorable, and Cuarón spends too much time on each (the final game is pacing at its worst). We are left to watch the games take place without much focus on story or character. And while the film is narrated by the greedy manager, I found his comparisons between life and soccer to be somewhat pointless. Sometimes we laugh at them when we're supposed to and sometimes we laugh when we're not. They sure sound catchy, I'll admit, but are they successful at what they're trying to do? And what exactly are they trying to do?
While Diego Luna's character, Rudo, is much more violent and energetic on the field than his brother ever was, we knew that five minutes into the picture. He is always angry, pessimistic, and looking for trouble. The games don't elaborate on this or ask us to change our views of the character; Luna, an actor lacking the small tiny details, presents Rudo as closed off, which would be fine if he could only externalize what was going on in the inside. Sadly, the soccer moments don't create the facts; they just seem to reiterate them.
The film plays like a more upbeat, melancholy retelling of Martin Scorsese's Raging Bull, without the groundbreaking lead performance or Michael Chapman's beautiful black and white cinematography to view and cherish. Rudo and Tato's mother is getting married to the local drug lord, and so she will be able to have an exquisite mansion on the beach (the boys promised to build her one, but they did not spend their money wisely). Her new husband can support her while her famous sons cannot, and that angers them to no end. Their fortunes have gone the way of attractive women, gambling, drugs, and cars, and they have nothing to give back to their family. As Norman Bates once said, "a boy's best friend is his mother," and yet these men have nothing to prove it.
When Rudo asks his manager for a financial favor, the manager tells him that he will then have to throw an important game (thus ending Rudo's coveted streak) in order to receive the cash. Rudo is conflicted. Should he do what he is told and get the money he needs to pay off astronomically high gambling debts, or should he keep his untarnished streak alive and risk his life? Now, I think the answer is fairly obvious, but if you feel passionate about a professional sport, perhaps you'll disagree with me. Rudo is asking his manager for a lot of money and the man obliges, again, on the basis that Rudo throws the game. That sounds fair. And yet, are we supposed to feel bad for Rudo? Why? He put himself in this situation and lost everything, and so these are the unfortunate consequences. Cuarón tries to vilify the manager character and, for me, that's a cop out. Remember who Jake LaMotta blamed for his demise? Himself. Rudo doesn't seem to want to man up and take the blame, so we can't find it in ourselves to sympathize with him when he hits rock bottom. He was blinded by the bright lights of fame and so here he is, down in the dirt without a dollar. Thank the Lord for that new stepfather.
A New York Times film critic I highly respect, A.O. Scott, writes on the film, "....Mr. Cuarón also has trouble managing the tone of the film as it swerves from light-hearted absurdity toward a darker, more cynical view of its characters and their fate. Too often he allows “Rudo y Cursi” to coast on the likeability of its stars, who seem at times to be enjoying themselves more than their characters are able to. ....And while the film is lively and engaging, it also, in the end, feels a little thin, largely because it is unsure of how earnestly to treat its own lessons about fate, ambition and brotherly love."
I think he's right on the money with those criticisms. The film is about serious issues, but it never takes them very seriously. There is too much back and forth banter between the brothers, and it feels forced and tired (the overabundance of the term "faggot" shows that Cuarón's script had nowhere to go but down). I don't want to sound like a right wing activist (as Roger Ebert once said, "political correctness is the fascism of the 90s), but Cuarón's dialogue could have been much wittier without relying on such thoughtless stereotypes. Oh, and listen up distributor: when you have a foreign film that features scenes in broad daylight, it may not always be wise to use white, almost clear subtitles. Just a word of advice for next time.
And so, that is Rudo y Cursi. You may like the film for its familiar plot and circumstances, or you may hate it for that very same reason. A few of the performances are strong (Bernal is the highlight) and I did laugh occasionally (especially during the music video sequence), but the film takes much too long to get to the point. It drags during the "tense" finale, and the big game's outcome turns out to be much ado about nothing. Shucks. I had high hopes for this one. You see, it's the sort of thing people would recommend for a rainy day. I, on the other hand, would recommend an umbrella.
The 411: I can't honestly recommend Rudo y Cursi. You've seen this type of film before (rags to riches and then back down to rags) and writer/director Carlos Cuarón brings nothing new to the table. It's a comfort food that will add twenty pounds to your body. Despite some brief funny moments, this Mexican comedy (or is it drama?) fails to come into its own. See it for the good performance from Bernal if you must (and soccer fans will probably see it regardless), but all others would be wise to pass on this one. P.S. I would love a CD that has Bernal's catchy, altogether hilarious song on there. Just a thought.
