Foreign, schmoreign. For the self-proclaimed film buffs (from a venerable film connoseiur!), is a trio of films to add to your arsenal of somewhat-obscure, Mexican classics. So sit back, put them on your Netflix queue and watch away.
El Topo (1970) by Alejandro Jordorowsky
Plotline for those who can’t be bothered to Wiki it:
A lone cowboy wanders rugged terrain in search of redemption—with a naked kid in tow, no less. If the end of the ’60s marked the end of ideals such as enlightenment and renewal, El Topo closed out the decade by celebrating these values. El Topo also provides surreal and provocative commentary on the nature of violence as an expression of masculinity. Jodoroswky was never a fan of popular convention and he wore his spirituality on his sleeve. The result is a film that was embraced by the counterculture (John Lennon was a huge fan) and continues to astound audiences around the world. Not yet ready to check this one out? If the clever use of spirituality mixed with violence won’t get you excited, we don’t know what else will.
How good is it really?
Well, for starters, it began a movement. The midnight film movement, as it is now known, is part film exhibition and part social interaction. Other films were shown in this environment but the unexpected success of El Topo helped pave the way for more film screenings in Manhattan and beyond.
Silent Light (2007) by Carlos Raygadas
Plotline for those who can’t be bothered to Wiki it:
A Mennonite farmer falls for a married woman—cue scenes of people crying and shots of farmland. Long hidden from public view, the Mennonite community gets the film treatment in Carlos Raygadas’ Silent Light. A married farmer starts an affair with another married woman and feels he is falling in love with her. A film about inner desire fighting duty, the film takes the road less traveled and refuses to turn to kitchen-sink drama. Instead, dilemmas and a crisis of faith are allowed to progress at an almost lethargic pace; slow but never to the point of being tedious. The visuals are simply otherworldly. The opening first minutes of the film are as if the world was suddenly made anew; a clean slate that is always out of reach for the beleaguered characters.
How good is it really?
While the languid pace may put off some, the film is nothing short of stunning; the cinematography is worth the price of admission alone. The story sometimes takes a backseat to the visuals but the end result is heavenly. Besides, once you view it, you can lord it over your friends by proclaiming yourself as a connoisseur instead of a mere fan of film.
Viridiana (1961) by Luis Bunuel
Plotline for those who can’t be bothered to Wiki it:
A nun tries to help her fellow man but ends up narrowly avoiding what seems to be a never-ending line of dudes who want to sleep with her.
Bunuel’s film shocked and impressed audiences around the world in 1961. A young (and hot) nun visits her uncle only to have the uncle attempt to lure her into some steamy incest action. She later moves from the convent and educates the poor while living with her uncle’s son, who also wants to sleep with her. See a pattern here? Eventually, the nun realizes the error of her ways and gives in to her base desires. Talk about a happy ending! To be serious, Bunuel’s film took a satirical look at an institution he despised, the Catholic Church. Never one for taming his vision, Bunuel refused back down from religious pressure and the film stands as one of his most well-known works.
How good is it really?
Viridiana is able to stand with other great films not just because of its taboo nature but because of the many components that make the film, from acting to storytelling and the message. Deep down the film shows us inherent truths of human nature. Examples are our deep-seated need to mask over our flaws and the hypocrisy that comes with it. Bunuel’s work continues to astound audiences years later. In our very humble opinion, the film is great, but as stated in the Best Latin Films of All Time, we simply didn’t feel this was his best. However, an OK Bunuel film stands head and shoulders above the output of most directors.
Pan’s Labynrinth (2006) by Guillermo Del Toro
Plotline for those who can’t be bothered to Wiki it:
In 1944, a young girl named Ofelia happens upon a fairy which leads her down the path of immortality as well as escaping from her asshole dad. The year 2006 was a banner year for Mexican film; Babel, Children of Men and Pan’s Labyrinth took the world by storm. Pan’s Labyrinth, was arguably the most critically acclaimed by critics and it’s easy to see why. Fascism is itself a product of fairy tales with its juvenile need to produce a raison d’être for its inhabitants. It is combated by the imagination of one of the purest beings in existence; a small child who knows not why things are worth fighting for, but fights for them nonetheless. A film based on a child’s imagination in a world at war would be fodder for mediocrity in the hands of lesser men. Guillermo Del Toro secured his position in the annals of cinema with this one film.
How good is it really?
Hell yeah. Of course it wasn’t on the Best Latin Films of All Time list but that doesn’t mean the film isn’t great in our eyes, just that it went up against other monsters. It’s like picking between Abbey Road and the White Album—lots of people are gonna be pissed either way. The film in itself not only had amazing direction and casting, but the visuals are second to none and Del Toro must be given credit for coaxing such a great performance from the child star that played Ofelia.