Bardo, Fausse chronique de quelques vérités

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.

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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.

After finishing this film, I sit in an empty theater, reflecting on what I have seen. The essence of this deeply personal message floating just under the surface of the film is complex. What should I think? Or more important, what should I feel?

I can only answer as a man who has lived over 60 years. I witnessed many "shared" moments in the film, images and memories where I look back on my life and either smile or shed a tear.

The beauty in this film lies in its "truth" which to me is the honest self reflection on a life spent. We all only have a certain amount of life to spend. No do overs. So when we all approach the waning moments of our lives, we look back on those little life pleasures, the painful moments, and the regrets we all have.

And the TRUTH of our own individual lives flashes before us all.

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.

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.