On this, the opening weekend of the third AMERICAN PIE movie, I voted with my feet and instead chose to watch a different coming of age film - Alfonso Cuaron's Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN. Why I waited so long, I don't know.
American filmmakers expend tremendous energy, dreaming up "coming of age" tales that center around the external, working-world-like concerns their young protagonists must face. In the end, they are often just writing forced metaphors for the sexual awakening that ushers a young person into the social world of adults. When AMERICAN PIE came out, it was hailed for its honesty and its likeable characters. It's such a telling example of what is wrong with American cinema that the fim's rating came down to how many thrusts Jason Biggs was allowed to give a pie.
Doubtless, some American viewers will either find MAMA too prurient to contain any value, or they will be so uncomfortable as to laugh at all the wrong times. But Cuaron has made a film in which we are encouraged to laugh, to hold our breaths in anticipation, to feel the blows to the gut of betrayal and to remember our own most painful experiences of sexual awakening. This is the story of two young men who are full of hormones and lust; they create and idealize rules of behavior for themselves that they cannot possibly satisfy.
It is also the story of Luisa, an older though not much wiser woman, who takes a journey through rural Mexico and sexual maturation with them. Her intentions are questionable, and even when we learn that she sought to affirm her own sense of life, we wonder if she was careless in the way she went about it. The film will not answer this question for us, which by itself would earn it the kiss of death from American censors. Luisa is the catalyst throughout the story, and it is only at the end that we become aware of her own journey as well. Maribel Verdu's frank, playful and layered performance is likewise the glue that keeps the story on track.
Cuaron makes an important documentary about rural Mexico in between the lines of his trio's road trip. The voice-over narration is critical for American viewers to understand the subtext; and for some reason, Mexican directors can pull off this conceit that feels like a cop-out in american movies (as in COMO AGUA PARA CHOCOLATE). As with the story of the three protagonists, this documentary is not judgmental, but it raises difficult questions and demands consideration.
What surprised me most, an hour after the film had concluded, was that I found myself in tears as the ramifications of the film's events pieced themselves together in my mind. My actual sexual experiences may not have mirrored those of the characters, but I and many of my generation have been down the road where the mysticism, power and necessity of intimacy are painfully defined through trial and error. More than anything else, Cuaron captures not just the honesty of this journey, but the hard truths that result from it. And yet, the truths I took away were the ones I knew already, as I am sure they will be for each individual viewer.
Viewers who are offended by sexual behavior we are all told is "wrong" will miss out on the beauty of this film, but I do not recommend it to them. Instead, I reserve my high recommendation for those who can understand that sex is part of life, and of growing up - and who can appreciate fine filmmaking that does not sidestep that great truth. Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN joins my very short list of 10/10 ratings.
American filmmakers expend tremendous energy, dreaming up "coming of age" tales that center around the external, working-world-like concerns their young protagonists must face. In the end, they are often just writing forced metaphors for the sexual awakening that ushers a young person into the social world of adults. When AMERICAN PIE came out, it was hailed for its honesty and its likeable characters. It's such a telling example of what is wrong with American cinema that the fim's rating came down to how many thrusts Jason Biggs was allowed to give a pie.
Doubtless, some American viewers will either find MAMA too prurient to contain any value, or they will be so uncomfortable as to laugh at all the wrong times. But Cuaron has made a film in which we are encouraged to laugh, to hold our breaths in anticipation, to feel the blows to the gut of betrayal and to remember our own most painful experiences of sexual awakening. This is the story of two young men who are full of hormones and lust; they create and idealize rules of behavior for themselves that they cannot possibly satisfy.
It is also the story of Luisa, an older though not much wiser woman, who takes a journey through rural Mexico and sexual maturation with them. Her intentions are questionable, and even when we learn that she sought to affirm her own sense of life, we wonder if she was careless in the way she went about it. The film will not answer this question for us, which by itself would earn it the kiss of death from American censors. Luisa is the catalyst throughout the story, and it is only at the end that we become aware of her own journey as well. Maribel Verdu's frank, playful and layered performance is likewise the glue that keeps the story on track.
Cuaron makes an important documentary about rural Mexico in between the lines of his trio's road trip. The voice-over narration is critical for American viewers to understand the subtext; and for some reason, Mexican directors can pull off this conceit that feels like a cop-out in american movies (as in COMO AGUA PARA CHOCOLATE). As with the story of the three protagonists, this documentary is not judgmental, but it raises difficult questions and demands consideration.
What surprised me most, an hour after the film had concluded, was that I found myself in tears as the ramifications of the film's events pieced themselves together in my mind. My actual sexual experiences may not have mirrored those of the characters, but I and many of my generation have been down the road where the mysticism, power and necessity of intimacy are painfully defined through trial and error. More than anything else, Cuaron captures not just the honesty of this journey, but the hard truths that result from it. And yet, the truths I took away were the ones I knew already, as I am sure they will be for each individual viewer.
Viewers who are offended by sexual behavior we are all told is "wrong" will miss out on the beauty of this film, but I do not recommend it to them. Instead, I reserve my high recommendation for those who can understand that sex is part of life, and of growing up - and who can appreciate fine filmmaking that does not sidestep that great truth. Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN joins my very short list of 10/10 ratings.