Redes

The beautiful class consciousness and struggle for workers' rights related to the sea and what it produces captured in the Mexican cinema of the golden age, which occurs in other films of the same context in a similar way as in La Perla by Emilio "El indio" Fernández, which I find fascinating and with an implicit intention in both plot and montage, This use of the sea I interpret as a symbol of freedom, realities of the time of the film still relevant today with the powerful message that unity is strength, brief in footage but powerful and precise, the photo is of some superb shooting that are illustrations worthy of being framed and exhibited in a museum.

Mexico anticipated neo-realism that is often attributed to Italy, with this work. Touches of Flaherty's "Man of Aran" are evident. Redes means "wave," the silent dark symbol/metaphor at the end of the film, while the sea had been so quiet and calm throughout the film. The music and camerawork are notable. The editing seems to be influenced by Eisenstein's work. A fascinating official debut from Zinnemann, though his unaccredited debut is a 1930 film called "Men on a Sunday"officially attributed to Robert Siodmak as the primary director. Perhaps the film reveals the real Zinnemann that one we glimpsed in "High Noon",often seen as Carl Foreman's real vision.

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Poor fishermen get paid 72 centavos each for ten hours of backbreaking labor. They start to organize for higher wages.

Co-directed by Emilio Gomez and Fred Zinnemann, it's mostly interesting as Zinnemann's second directorial credit. Shot with an air of cinema realite like his earlier work, it's hampered mildly by a mostly non-professional cast. Yet the images managed by cameraman Paul Strand, and the frequently dreamlike quality of the boats gliding on the water, shot from odd angles contrast oddly with the talking sections. With two directors, it's hard to figure out who did what and what their actual intentions were. The reports are that the two directors didn't get along. The contrast between the talking and non-talking segments lend credence to that claim.

This is not a great movie: the characters are made out of cardboard, the plot is standard "Waiting for Lefty" with a heavier emphasis on historical materialism, and some of the actors are barely that. But it is still worth seeing, for two reasons: Paul Strand's beautiful pictures and Silvestre Revueltas' beautiful score.

Strand was not cut out to be a cinematographer: his shots are as static as a still photo. Not surprising, considering that Strand was one of the greatest photographers of the last century. You can see how much he loved taking the portraits of clouds, the sea, and the fishermen who are the heroes of this film-which doesn't make a good movie, but is still a delight to watch. As for Revueltas' score, someone who knows more about music will have to comment on it. It is enough to say that it is powerful, not overstated, and modern. He apparently wrote much of the score before the movie was finished, so it doesn't have the interplay with the film itself that Herrmann's score for Vertigo or Fumio Hayasaka's score for Seven Samurai does. But it is still wonderful, particularly if you hear it played by a good orchestra.