Bardo, falsa crónica de unas cuantas verdades

From the very first scene of a shadow leaping into the desert air, you know that you are in for something extraordinarily fantastic. At its core it is the fantastically surreal retrospective of fictional Mexican journalist Silverio on the verge of receiving American and Mexican awards for his latest documentary. Every professional and personal interaction he has with family, friends and coworkers is eventually deconstructed as his story adds and peels away layers of humanity.

Much like Forrest Gump, Cinema Paradiso, or even the Little Prince, there is no task or goal to achieve, no plot device or macguffin to chase... it's the nostalgic tale of one man's life experience. It is impossible to convey how effortlessly each scene blends to the next with calculated disregard for the passage of time and the spacial relationships of people and objects. Iñárritu has one-upped Fellini and two-upped Terry Gilliam as every set piece, every camera composition and every performance creates amazing visuals that will stay with you long after you've left the theater.

This movie has one of the weirdest plot structures I've ever seen. It isn't something linear, nor retrospective. It's a circular story, without beginning or end, as its own director said. There are very well represented dream stories that mix and merge with the reality of the film and even with our own reality. There are weird occurrences, but they're not uncomfortable, they're just fun to watch. This is intertwined with some short-lived drama in the plot. There is the story of the loss of a child. There is the shameless account of historical events distorted at convenience. There is the sharp criticism of TV shows and their soulless show business. There is the difficult relationship of a father with his teenage son. The portrait of a nation that emigrates to survive. And all this not even in the middle of the movie!

The script is a very bold move by its director and writer. It can be seen as a mastery developed in reverse criticism from the film's director to the audience watching the film, it can be seen as an ambitious arrogance that wants to boast of its roots despite its problems. In short, there is a lot of material to discuss and analyze.

In its technical details, it bothers me that some sequences are so dark. Sometimes they try to play with the natural light of an environment where such darkness is justified, but I don't think it's the right thing to do for a movie with sequential shots as great as this one.

The practical effects are very good, the performances are good, the interplay between editing and directing is exquisite.

Recommended for a clear mind evening.

What a terrible shame that BARDO is only gonna be shown on Netflix. Although Netflix produced this year's greatest films, it's a shame that those films will never play on the big screens. So you can imagine how honoured and grateful I was to attend a preview of BARDO with Alejandro G. Inarritu, one of my favourite directors of all time, who came himself and presented his film. You could tell how happy he was to present the film, as it clearly is his most personal and intimate work to date.

I was hoping for the best, but didn't expect too much as the film received quite mixed first reviews from Venice and other previews. That's why I wasn't prepared for the journey Inarritu would take me on for the next three hours. BARDO isn't only easily the best film of the year so far, it was also one of the most beautiful and profound cinematic experiences I've had in my life - that's the reason why I started my review by saying that it's a shame most people will only experience this on their TV. It's really a shame. The images Inarritu and his godlike DoP Darius Khondji produce here are far beyond incredible. The first half hour of the film, I constantly had goosebumps because of the sheer beauty of this film. I often say that I deeply appreciate when a film invents new, unseen images, when the team behind the film almost invent a new cinematic language. They absolutely do here.

The film might feel too long for some, pretentious for others, but it was just the film I was waiting for since a long time, not knowing I was until I've watched it. It was one of these rare films which I didn't ever want to end, and the fact that I knew it was going to run for three hours actually comforted me many times throughout the sublime time I had watching this.

BARDO is undoubtedly Inarritu's most ambitious film yet, this film feels - and is - HUGE. It's an incredible homage to the country Mexico (I've sat through the whole endless credits and he literally only hired Mexicans to work on this film), but moreover, it's one of the most touching and honest films about family. Where in many films depicting family relationships can feel cheesy and superfluous, here it really worked, and moved me in a way no other film did. That is also due to the fact that all actors are nothing less than absolutely outstanding. Led by the revelation of the year, Daniel Giménez Cacho, who plays the role of Silverio and easily carries the very heavy weight of this opus on his shoulders, the film already had a complex character who you could easily identify with. But every actor until the last smallest supporting role was cast perfectly and contributed to this film.

Bardo reads like a poem, as Inarritu speaks in metaphors one more beautiful and thoughtful than the other. It's layered, complex, absurd, dreamlike, moving, breathtakingly beautiful, visionary and ambitious - one of the best films I've seen in my life and a film which will have a place in my heart for a very long time.

Greetings again from the darkness. Many filmmakers mine their own lives for projects, making their work personal, revealing, and sometimes invasive. It's easy to label these works as narcissistic, and by definition, that would be accurate. However, some of the finest films from our most interesting writer-directors fall into the autobiographical (or semi-autobiographical) category. Examples include Fellini's 8 ½ (1963), Cameron Crowe's ALMOST FAMOUS, and Woody Allen's STARDUST MEMORIES. This time it's Oscar winner Alejandro Inarritu looking inward. Inarritu won his Oscars for THE REVENANT (2015), and his previous nominations include BIRDMAN (2014) and BABEL (2006), and those are in addition to his other standouts: BIUTIFUL (2010), 21 GRAMS (2003), and AMORES PERROS (2000). He's joined on this project by his BIUTIFUL and BIRDMAN co-writer, Nicolas Giacobone.

The film begins with a Terrence Malick-like dream sequence of a man leaping and flying through the desert as his shadow follows below. Next, we see a woman giving birth in a hospital as her husband lends support. Only this time, the mother and doctor agree that the baby didn't want to come out, so they put him "back in." The father is Silverio (Daniel Gimenez Cacho, (BAD EDUCATION 2004, CRONOS 1993), and it's quite obvious he is representing our real-life director, Mr. Inarritu. A few years later we are informed that Silverio, a respected journalist and documentarian, has become the first Mexican selected for a prestigious award in the United States.

Griselda Siciliani plays Lucia, Silverio's wife, and she is integral to his life, yet we witness much of his life outside of their relationship. The film struck me as a metaphysical exercise as an artist turns his lens into selfie mode. It seems as though Inarritu is coming to grips ... and sharing his philosophy with us ... that emotions drive the reality of our truth. Stated another way, truth is an illusion of emotion. Our emotion skews how we view everything. Additionally, he examines (his own) midlife crisis, and the corresponding insecurities, dreams, fantasies, and doubts. And since much of this occurs in his native Mexico, spiritual and cultural aspects enter into what we see, as does the uncertainty of time as an element.

Inarritu and cinematographer Darius Khondji capture some startling imagery, including a sequence on the dance floor, a segment where bodies drop in the street, and a bag of Axolotls being held on the train. Much of the film has a surreal look and feel, but then there are moments that are more emotionally grounded - like the terrific rooftop exchange between Silverio and his friend Luis (Francisco Rubio). In contrast to that heartfelt conversation, there are the moments when Silverio seems to be heard by others without his speaking. "Move your mouth when you speak", he is told ... yet, his thoughts are conveyed.

The use of sound is masterful, and is crucial to numerous scenes. A second watch will allow me to more fully appreciate this aspect. However, at two hours and thirty-nine minutes, Inarritu likely had many thoughts and ideas, and we find ourselves wishing things were a bit tighter on the editing side. Still, while the film may be self-indulgent and ego-driven, it's also spectacular and stunning filmmaking. There are some slyly comedic touches, and the best may when this Netflix production doesn't shy away from taking a jab at its competitor, Amazon.

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"Bardo works best when it focuses on the dynamics between father, mother, and children regarding immigration and how this drastic life change impacts each member of the family nucleus. Alejandro G. Iñárritu takes advantage of all the awe-inspiring technical elements to build a story worthy of the big screen but lacks tonal consistency and narrative control.

"Historical" recreations with q.b. Surrealism only makes the runtime feel heavier, and if it wasn't for Darius Khondji's superb cinematography along with exceptional set and sound design, this film would have been in trouble.

Fortunately, there's a lot more to be enjoyed than to feel frustrated."

Rating: B.