A POET Review: The Unbearable Weight of Passive Talent

A popular, yet quite disheartening saying claims that those who can't do, teach.

It seems, though, that some new adage should be invented at this point concerning those who possibly can or definitely could in the past, and therefore, are lost in the memories of those happier and more productive times, rendering them unable to move on in any capacity, creative, academic, or otherwise.

This hypothetical saying could probably explain a lot about Oscar Restrepo, a walking catastrophe of a protagonist in A Poet, a sophomore feature by Colombian director Simón Mesa Soto, whose debut film, Amparo, has also had its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival. Oscar (Ubeimar Rios, a non-actor and a real-life teacher) doesn’t want to teach at all because, as hinted by the film’s title, Oscar is a poet. Having published some poetry many years ago, he now spends his life actively sabotaging himself, too engaged in the illusion of the past time’s grandeur, while utterly disconnected from the actual present.

Oscar is indeed successful in one regard, as he brilliantly epitomizes most popular stereotypes about struggling artists. He refuses to work, lives with his mother (Margarita Soto), doesn’t have any money, and when he miraculously does, spends it on maintaining his drinking problem.

Oscar fears that his estranged teenage daughter, Daniela (Allison Correa), might hate him, but like most people in his orbit, she just generally doesn’t have any strong feelings about the man. When Oscar is finally forced to take a teaching job, he suddenly encounters something that resembles a potential second chance, as he meets Yurlady (Rebeca Andrade), a young student with a natural ability in the arts, whom he decides to mentor.

But just as Oscar’s relationship with the girl shifts between him possibly seeing her as a proxy child and pursuing his own agenda, setting out to prove his worth by being the one to “discover” her, the film also dances on the edge of a character-study drama and a poignant satire aimed at the mechanics of the art world turned into an industry. So, while poetry is the raw material Soto’s film focuses on, it might as well be a stand-in for any other art embedded with monetizing, optics, and questionable practices.

The parallel with the film world is especially vivid, making many moments seem painfully familiar and relatable for anyone who’s ever attempted any kind of creative process with more than just one person involved. Which isn’t by any means to say that the movie’s scope is too narrow, or that its impact is too niche. Underneath the satire and chaotic slapstick, A Poet – this time contradicting what the title might seem to imply – is primarily a story about humans, not professions or vocations. 

Despite the barbs and the gags, the tone of Soto’s film is more melancholic than anything else, emphasized by the almost noirish score, the grain and muted colors of the 16 mm images, and the cinema verité cinematography by Juan Sarmiento G. In a way, this film is painted in a manner similar to how Yurlady, not yet corrupted by always trying to foresee potential audience’s expectations, views art – as a way of trying to capture interesting things happening in the world.

So, even though the story in A Poet suggests that such a point of view might be too idealistic to be applicable in actual reality, the film itself does prove otherwise. 

The film is now playing in New York and Los Angeles, and will open throughout the U.S. in the coming weeks, via 1-2 Special. Visit the official site for locations and showtimes.