THE ROAD TO THE
MOVIE THEATER, WHILE PAVED, IS FILLED WITH MANY OBSTRUCTIONS
by Jan Galligan
and Lillian Mulero
Santa Olaya, PR
2014 San Juan
International Film Festival : Day Four (SPOILER ALERT!)
On a good day,
meaning light traffic, we can make San Juan from Santa Olaya in 28
minutes. Over time, we have learned that the preliminaries before the
start of a feature movie, a series of commercials and coming
attractions, last for 20 minutes.
Calculations for when to leave the house in order to arrive at the start of a movie go like this: the published time for the film is 7:10; which means the film will begin at 7:30; which means we should leave at 7:02; but the chances of heavy traffic are 60%, so we should leave at 6:45; plus 5 minutes for parking the car, so we should leave at 6:40.
Lillian hates to miss the opening moments of a film. For her, it's like a journey by public transportation: if you're late, the train has already left the station; you've missed the boat and the rest of the trip is spoiled, no matter what else might happen. I like an element of mystery. The first ten minutes of most films are filled with expository information which sets the scene and describes the action that will be carried out for the rest of the movie. If you miss that introduction, then you have an interesting problem in trying to figure out exactly what is going on in the story and what is motivating the characters. The movie becomes a puzzle to be solved. “Maybe,” says Lillian, “Regardless, I hate missing the opening minutes of a movie.” We should leave at 6:20, which means we may end up sitting through most of the commercials and coming attractions.
I generally don't like watching trailers for films I am planning to see. Inevitably they show you the entire plot of the film. Watching the movie then becomes an experience of seeing something that you are already familiar with, and for which you have a pretty good idea of how it will evolve and maybe even what the ending will be. For similar reasons, I don't like reading reviews before seeing a film. There's a good reason that they are called reviews, not previews, and trailers should be something that follow the main event. Good reviews summarize a film, but also analyze the story and critique the way it is told. If the movie has an inherent puzzle or mystery, reviews often attempt to provide a solution.
Screenings for the San Juan International Film Festival follow a different pattern, and require a different calculation. Posted start times are fairly accurate, the preliminaries last only five minutes and there are no coming attractions.
We were late for four of the five screenings. I blame it on the traffic. An accident blocking the highway; a truck broken down in the middle of the road; road repairs and a detour; and in the first instance, two traffic jams along the way. Lillian was not happy, while I found myself plunged into mystery. “What's going on?” I'd whisper to Lillian. “Shut up and watch the film,” she'd reply. The mysteries were complicated by the multicultural nature of the movies being shown: Dominican film in Spanish, no subtitles; Austrian film, in German, with English subtitles; Uruguayan film in Spanish, no subtitles; Taiwanese film in Chinese, with English subtitles, but very little dialog; a film from Turkey, in Turkish, Arabic and English, with Spanish subtitles. My ability to read Spanish is serviceable, but I often get lost in complex verb conjugations. “What'd they say?” I'd whisper to Lillian. “Quiet!” she'd reply.
After four or five films in a few days, the stories start to run together, but here's a brief synopsis:
STRAY
DOGS (Jiao You), a French, Taiwanese co-production, was filmed in
Mandarin, in Taipei. The anti-hero of this film, is a middle-aged
homeless man, with two children, a young boy and a younger girl. He's
an alcoholic and earns money each day working as a human signboard,
standing next to a highway intersection in downtown Taipei. He has
built a shelter for himself and the children in a storage bin under
the highway. They do their nightly ablutions in public bathrooms,
including brushing their teeth. This 138 minute film, directed by
Tsai Ming-Liang, claimed by him as his “final film” is a text
book exercise in the minimalist slow cinema genre, of which Tsai
Ming-Liang is considered a leading proponent.
The
film contains five very lengthy sequences: (1) 7 minutes – The
opening scene where a woman, possibly the children's mother, combs
the girls hair. (2) 5 minutes – The man holds his sign board and
recites, then sings a 12th
Century Chinese militant poem. (3) 11 minutes – The man, in a
drunken stupor, attacks, then eats a large head of cabbage which the
children had made into a puppet. This takes place in the bed they
share while the children are apparently asleep. (4) 8 minutes – The
woman tours an underground derelict building, then stares fixedly at
a landscape wall mural graffiti painting. (5) 20 minutes – near the
end of the film. The man hugs the woman from behind, while they stand
completely still. He takes drinks from a series of mini-liquor
bottles. She sheds a single tear. They stare into space. A cross-cut
reveals they are looking at the painted mural. She leaves; he
follows.
He leaves for Istanbul, but it is snowing too hard and the train is delayed. Instead, he and the driver visit a friend near the train station. Over a warm fire they are joined by one of his wife's cohorts, a young professor, and the three men drink to excess, while the driver stays outside in the freezing cold and talks on the phone to the cook back at the hotel. In a drunken stupor, the professor accuses the writer of dishonesty. The writer pukes. The professor leaves, and his friend helps the writer into bed. Apparently, the driver sleeps in the Land Rover. Meanwhile, the wife pays a visit to the home of the boy and his uncle. She offers them the money that the writer gave her. This is her revenge on her husband and a sly way of paying him back. Fortuitously, the boy's father has just been released from prison and shows up the moment she hands the money, “enough to buy a house,” to the uncle. “What's this!?” asks the father. “Allah be praised, she's making us a donation,” says the uncle, and leaves the room. “Give me that,” says the father. Grabbing the money, he tosses it onto the fire roaring in the fireplace. The young wife bursts into tears, and continues to cry during the long drive back to her room at the hotel. The next day the writer goes hunting with his friend, and manages to shoot a rabbit with a shotgun. The driver packs the man and the rabbit into the Land Rover and takes them back to the hotel. The trip to Istanbul is postponed, possibly for good. At the hotel, the writer hands the rabbit to the cook, then spies his young wife in the window of her upstairs room. In soliloquy, he declares his love for his wife and states that he has found a new and better man inside himself, and vows that he will live his life as that new person from that day forth. The curtain falls.
Will the young wife tell the man about the money? Will the man leave immediately for Istanbul? How will the poor Muslim family pay their rent? Will the young boy graduate from school and attend college? Will the writer continue to publish his columns on politics, religion, economics and history?
Walking
out of the theater at the movie's end, late at night, the drive back
to Santa Olaya should be an easy one. Most of the roads will be
deserted, and barring any accidents or road repairs, it should be an
unimpeded journey. I decide to tell Lillian that during the film, I
came to realize that there was a new, better person inside me, one
who knows the value of arriving to a film on time, in order to see
the opening sequence. “We will leave earlier next time we go to the
movies,” I tell her. “Right,” she says, “We'll see about
that.”