What is that certain something that makes a film worth watching? Whatever it is, Alejandro Fernandez Almendras' Huacho (one day with a Chilean peasant family) doesn't have it. It's not the subject matter - the different subplots are deftly woven together and far better illustrate the problems facing poor Latin Americans than the clumsy allegories in certain more commercial productions. But there's a lack of artistry to the filmmaking, an absence of any real enthusiasm that means the whole thing never really grabs the viewer.
The family - the mother, her son, her parents - aren't dirt poor, but they're obviously having to scrimp and save. The day begins when their electricity supply cuts out during breakfast, and the film splits into four sections that follow each of the principals (all non-professionals) through the next twenty-four hours or so.
The grandmother tends to their livestock, feeding the chickens, buying milk, making cheese. The son deals with being the target of casual playground mockery and excluded from the ruling cliques at school (as the 'peasant kid'). The grandfather, slowly working his way through odd jobs around the farm, faces up to the harsh reality he's not as young as he was. And the mother, faced with a part-time job that doesn't pay enough, has to make some small but pointed sacrifices.
On the one hand the quietly matter-of-fact way the film winds its way through all these scenarios is laudable. Almendras' presence is never really felt, and the banter between the family members and everyone they encounter during the day is perfectly, elegantly natural, from the grandfather pilfering the son's breakfast chocolate to the grandmother demanding some bootleg CDs as compensation from the young dairy hand who's just raised the price of milk on her.
The little chains of cause and effect in each plot thread is simple, graceful and as a portrait of how the other half live it's a world away from the clumsy, thudding symbolism in We Are What We Are. On paper, Huacho would probably seem fairly didactic (this happens here, so that happens there, which makes people upset, frustrated etc., etc.) but Almendras never forces anything, which leaves the film genuinely moving, even thought-provoking at times.
And yet on the other hand these moments are few and far between. For the most part, Huacho is just too dull, almost sterile, to grab many viewers' attention.
Visually, the film simply never really comes to life. It's technically sound, but there are virtually no moments which would have anyone sit up in their seat, mouth open. Indeed, Almendras seems to go out of his way to avoid showing anything too artistic - not only is Huacho mostly interiors or confined spaces, any time he follows anyone the director seems determined to ride on their shoulder, with far too much nauseatingly intimate camerawork that blocks out any impression of their surroundings.
Even the mock-documentary approach doesn't excuse it from having little or no cinematic flair. Film school or cinema verite, documentaries or films that imitate them can still provide plenty of eye candy - Liu Jiayin's Oxhide films display a gorgeous painterly sensibility in their rigid, limited framing, and Wang Bing's masterpiece West of the Tracks is a riot of jaw-dropping imagery worthy of being hung in an art gallery despite being about as pure a documentary as it's possible to be. Huacho never once excites like these two.
The story never proves especially involving, either. One day in the life of an ordinary Latin American family doesn't have to be a rollercoaster, obviously, but Almendras never captures anything to suggest the four principals feel particularly bothered about what they're going through. There are moments each of them ride out suppressed emotions but these always come across as frustration or worse, quiet resignation, rather than genuine pain. It works on some levels, in that you can plainly see how these day-to-day struggles relate to the bigger picture without ever needing a voiceover to explain it, but it still drains far too much of what little energy there is in the film, more than likely leaving many viewers wondering why they should care.
Huacho
isn't a bad film in any sense. It's well thought out, competently
shot and follows a clear, identifiable narrative arc from start to
finish. It's easy to identify the problems the cast are working
through regardless of how far removed your own background might be.
But the movie never really invites the viewer to feel any empathy for
them. Huacho implies their wider world, rather than telling the
audience about it - which is good - but the director never shows
any of this, when it might have brought the story to life. As it
stands, unless you have a specific interest in Almendras' particular
narrow focus his film can't really be recommended.
(Huacho was screened as part of the 24th Leeds International Film Festival.)