El violín ( Le Violon , 2006), by Francisco Vargas, which tells the story of Don Plutarco, an old violinist who decides to support a guerrilla group, masterfully reveals the most human side of the rebellion. Vargas gives voice to the “voiceless”, but its merit goes even further and consists in making present, thanks to the cinema, a reality dating back forty years. A visit to https://real-primewire.com makes things perfect there in your viewing experience.
The Graphic Circles
El traspatio ( L’arrière-cour , 2009), by Carlos Carrera, presents images hitherto mainly reserved for graphic circles and television news: women murdered in a desert. Speak here those who are no longer there to denounce misogyny and impunity. The courage of Carrera’s postulate does not only lie in the impact produced by these images, but also in the hypotheses he explores around the question of the murders of women in Ciudad Juárez.
- The best Mexican cinema today has in common this staging of characters hitherto ignored whether by political correction or by pure disinterest in the issues involved but which, once the screen, show their indomitable character. The passions of the new cinematographic extra are those of everyday life. Its objectives are based on the need to go to the most basic and fundamental: the right to be who we decided to be.
- Set at the time of the “cristera” struggle, this film addresses the madness of a man who believes himself to be the victim of divine punishment and then decides to isolate his loved ones.
There is, moreover, a new extra whose carnal dimension arises to take the reins of his life. The direct antecedent of this “carnal uncovered” is found in Y Tu mamá también ( Et… ta mère aussi!, 2001), by Alfonso Cuarón, where the buried dimensions of two characters come out in the open and come to upset their friendship. The excitement that this film aroused recalls that caused in 1976 by the kiss between Pancho (Gonzalo Vega) and Manuela (Roberto Cobo) in El lugar sin límites ( This place without limits ), by Arturo Ripstein. Although this kiss between the charolastras of Cuarón’s film is not the first kiss between men in Mexican cinema, it is one of the best known.
The Best Expression
The highest expression of this other type of catch had matured since 2001, in a film which would only see the light of day in 2003: Mil nubes de paz cercan el cielo, amor, jamás acabarás de ser amor , (A thousand clouds of peace) by Julián Hernández. This film – better known in Europe and the United States than in Mexico conquers, once and for all and in an extremely dignified way, a cinematographic space for the homo-erotic body.
The documentary which, from the drinkers of “pulque” [Mexican alcoholic drink] and “pulquerías”, speaks of the enormous and silent cultural resistance as one of the most remarkable features of the Mexican identity. With rare exceptions, homosexuals had always been caricatured in Mexican cinema. The homosexuals of Hernández, on the other hand, are young people without effeminacy, dressed like everyone else and, above all, immersed in problems common to all human beings. It sounds simple, but Mexican cinema has had a lot of trouble daring to show the homosexual body on the screen.