Léalo en español
Who is the man in the poster for Bardo, a False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths? Did director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s often commented ego drive him to appear in the promotional ad? No, it’s actor Daniel Giménez Cacho, standing in for the director like Mastroianni for Fellini in 8 1/2, or Banderas for Almodóvar in Pain and Glory. González Iñárritu returns to film in his native Mexico on a delirious journey that takes him from downtown Mexico City to the border with the U.S. in which he tries – and for the most part succeeds – to explain not only his decisions but his Mexican-ness as well. “My goal is to broaden the vision of Mexico from the outside, to show what life is like here,” the director once said as a debuting filmmaker; 22 years later, he is close to accomplishing this.
Alejandro González Iñárritu, who seems to have received every award in the cinematographic world and an Honoris Causa doctorate from UNAM Mexico’s most prestigious university, is an atypical director. After a successful career in radio and advertising, he made his directorial debut at the age of 38 with Amores Perros (2000), screened in the Critics’ Week at Cannes. The nimble, fragmented narrative, with its unapologetically glamour-less violence and artistry that punched viewers in both the brain and the gut, earned the film standing ovations from audiences and critics alike. From that moment on it was predicted – or it was a warning? – that he would soon migrate to Hollywood. With 21 grams (2003), an American production, he was accused of being a sellout of his conscience; ironically, the title refers to what the soul is said to weigh. A film without the violence of the first one, but emotionally devastating, it was the second time he worked with screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga, with whom he also made a third film, Babel (2006). These three works are reflections on death, isolation and the impossibility of communication in the modern world. They have an impeccable mise en scene, as well as an excellently directed cast ranging from then-newcomer Gael García Bernal to Benicio del Toro, Brad Pitt and Charlotte Gainsborough. But Iñárritu’s style and success was believed to be intrinsically linked to Arriaga’s narrative style; the dissolution of their writing partnership was an acrimonious divorce, laden with public recriminations.
Biutiful (2010), his next film, was another meditation on death and immigration and would have been judged solid if it came from any other director. From Iñárritu it was perceived as a failure. He bounced back with his 2014 Birdman, winning four Academy Awards including best film and best director. It traced the redemption of an actor through Broadway, and was González Iñárritu’s response, on screen and in real life, to his critics. The film was followed by the neo-Western The Revenant (2015), a less personal film that took fewer risks, but one that gave actor Leonardo Di Caprio his much sought-after Academy Award.
In Bardo, the taking of Chapultepec Castle by U.S. Marines during the Mexican-American war is depicted as a farce; later in the film, a pyramid of indigenous corpses appear in front of the National Palace like an apocalyptic painting: this is Mexico’s entry for the Academy Award for an international feature film in a non-English language. Irony or poetic justice? Both. And another victory for Alejandro González Iñárritu.
