Sundown

Sundown

Courtesy of the Venice Film Festival.

VERDICT: The controversy stirred up by Michel Franco’s previous film 'New Order' will be partly placated, partly reignited in this story of English tourists (Tim Roth and Charlotte Gainsbourg) in Mexico.

In Michel Franco’s rigorously made Sundown, the Mexican director leads us inexorably to the protagonists’ meeting with destiny scene by scene, shot by shot. The story reverberates with the elegiac tone of Albert Camus’ The Stranger and Malcolm Lowry’s Under the Volcano in its mixture of death, drunkenness and emotional estrangement in Acapulco. It is a very sad film that not all viewers will be anxious to spend time with, and it is a mysterious one that requires thought to understand what is going on onscreen.

But its fine qualities will be seen through the lens of the controversy that arose when Franco’s New Order premiered in Venice last year and won the Silver Lion Grand Jury Award. That film’s fantasy of a dark-skinned underclass violently rising up against a white Mexican elite was attacked by many critics as racist and left many question marks surrounding Franco’s intended message. Sundown echoes some of the same concerns that were the object of criticism last year, particularly its picture of Mexico as a dangerous country where violent crimes happen casually and often, and the risk an innocent foreigner runs of being arbitrarily arrested and held in an over-crowded, SRO jail awaiting trial on the flimsiest of evidence.

On the other hand, Sundown seems to have some strong things to say about extreme wealth and capitalism, which it visualizes several times in absurd shots of swine – once in a prison yard, once on a beach and finally a gutted hog on the kitchen floor. These fantasies are a graphic representation of the source of the Bennett family’s great wealth — swine farms and meat packing plants which are premised on slaughter and violence. In brief, although the rich white foreigners are the victims of the poor uneducated locals, on some level they deserve it. (Once again, Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite suggests itself as a reference point to compare and contrast.)

If this seems too bald an interpretation, consider the way money is shown to underlie the rift between Neil (Roth) and Alice Bennett (Gainsbourg). We meet the family, which includes a teenage daughter and son, enjoying the sun and waiter-delivered drinks in a luxurious modern house whose infinity pool overlooks the pounding surf. They are on a holiday and from a stray remark by Alice to Neil (“it was nice of you to come”), one imagines they are a separated couple. But no: later it becomes clear that Neil and Alice are brother and sister, heirs to the aforementioned swine industry. Why Franco chooses to hide their true relationship so long is puzzling. Perhaps it reflects an ambiguity within the family, where Alice manages the company and wears the pants around the office. In any case, it forces the viewer to reevaluate every relationship.

The story really begins with an unexpected phone call from England and bad news: Alice and Neil’s mother has suddenly died. Alice is distraught and orders everyone to immediately pack their bags; they are going home to confront this family emergency together. But when they get to the airport (these are First Class passengers, judging by the personal attention they get), Neil discovers he has forgotten his passport and has to stay behind.

Where Gainsbourg is sharp, emotive and domineering, Tim Roth confounds our ideas by being practically unreadable behind his white beard. We suspect he has deliberately opted out of the family tragedy when he takes up residence in an anonymous hotel in the middle of town and spends his days drinking on the noisy public beach in the company of the lovely Bérénice (Iazua Larios), a local woman who sells snacks. Roth’s Neil is so meek and unassuming it seems impossible that he’s lying to his sister on the phone day after day about losing his passport and going to the consulate for a replacement.

Although on first viewing Neil’s inertia is perceived as irritating and self-indulgent (some viewers will side with Alice on this point), every part of Franco’s concise screenplay (the film is a perfect 83 minutes) is important in conveying the shifting meaning of events and relationships. When violence strikes, it is a bolt out of the blue, despite having been presaged by the murder of a man on the beach. The social tension that has been kept in the background – Neil’s taxi driver who seems on the take, a missing/stolen suitcase, the contrast between the fawning Acapulco service industry and the aggressive men in town – explodes in a shocking, unpredictable event that sends Neil’s carefree lifestyle careening off the road.

As the consequences unfold, it’s obvious the film is no tourist brochure for Mexico’s legal system. It is a plus, however, that the relationship between Neil and Bérénice is treated as a deepening love affair and not some casual holiday flirtation or worse, a mercenary proposition. Larios’s nearly silent role is filled with unspoken feeling and genuine caring, which we are left to contrast with Neil’s hostile family.

 Director, screenplay: Michel Franco
Cast: Tim Roth, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Iazua Larios, Henry Goodman, Samuel Bottomley, Albertine Kotting McMillan
Producers: Michel Franco, Erendira Nunez Larios, Cristina Velasco
Cinematography: Yves Cape
Production design: Claudio R. Castelli
Costume design: Gabriella Fernandez
Editing: Oscar Figueroa Jara, Michel Franco
Sound: Alejandro de Icaza, Niklas Skarp
Production company: Teorema (Mexico)
World sales: Match Factory
Venue: Venice Film Festival (competition)
In English, Spanish
83 minutes