Morte in vacanza

It might surprise people that the first Mexican movie ever nominated for Best Foreign Language Film had as its source a story by the Brothers Grimm. Roberto Gavaldón's "Macario" is based directly on "The Third Guest" by B. Traven (whose origins and identity remain a mystery). The title character is an indigenous woodcutter in colonial Mexico to whom Death - appearing as a humble peasant - gives water with curative qualities. But it turns out that the use of this water, even for the noblest purposes, has its consequences.

The era when "Macario" got released is known as the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema. I haven't seen many Mexican movies from that time, although I'd like to. The major themes here are class structure and the desire to keep living. 'Twas ever thus, I guess. While not a masterpiece, the movie does a good job moving the story along, with clever editing and camerawork, and fine acting. Sadly, Pina Pellicer (Macario's wife) died of a barbiturate overdose a few years after the release.

This film, set in colonial times, tells the tale of Macario, a destitute woodcutter who stumbles onto a magical source of healing power. He has a series of beautifully photographed adventures curing the sicknesses of the incurable in his tiny farming hamlet and the nearby town. As Macario's fame spreads, his wealth increases but his uncanny powers attract the wrong kind of attention, leading to a tragic denouement.

The powerless suffering of the poor, the boundless greed of the rich and of the poor alike, the eternal desire to cheat death and squeeze a few more drops out of this life -- these timeless themes are all operative here to good effect. This is not a subtle movie, and it is rather dated in its characterizations and its moralizing. Even so, the acting is competent and the plot engaging. There are some stunning scenes that combine with the first-rate cinematography to make the film lovely to look at.

If this rarely screened movie comes your way, I recommend that you take the opportunity to view it.

I was grateful for the rare opportunity to see the 1960 Mexican film `Macario.' Without going over the plot again, suffice it to say that it is a spooky, black and white film reminiscent of Bunuel's `Los Olvidados' and Bergman's `The Seventh Seal.' If that sounds appealing, `Macario' is definitely for you. Films with this sort of elemental power, and which tell an enthralling story devoid of marketing strategy, focus-group tweaking, or commercial gloss are increasingly rare. When you find one, it's usually an old film that you stumble upon by accident (as I did with this one). It's always a delight to find an old gem like this one. Great film!

Adapted from socialist B. Traven's story of the same name, the film is a artistic masterpiece. The direction, acting are superb. The cinematography is moving and haunting. The trees, the sparseness of the village, even the expression on the actors' faces-all are moving-all are memorable.

Have you ever wanted anything in life, something you could just call your own? As Macario's wife admits to her husband she has also wanted something just for herself that she didn't have to share and gives him a turkey she stole that could have cost her her life so he can fulfill his desire to eat a turkey all to himself. For all of Macario's life he has always known nothing, but hunger as has his wife, his children and fellow villagers. However, Macario is a good man and cannot eat whole turkey without ultimately sharing. He is approached by the Devil, God, and what appears a very hungry man with whom does he share his turkey, but why?

Poverty, wealth, and racism all are shown here. The story takes place in Mexico during Spanish rule. Whereas the white Spanish ruling elite, shown to be greedy, cynical, arrogant, and inhuman, are wealthy and want for nothing; the local indigenous people, who maybe all honest and hard-working, are forced to starve and live in a dry, sparse desert with barely-thatched roofs, praying to God for justice rather than creating it. The same cinematographer that photographed Brunel's films in Mexico was also the cinematographer of this film. Perhaps, that's why it seems to be an odd mix combining the social criticism of Brunel's Los Olvidados along with the existentialism of Bergman's 7th Seal. Intellectually profound in its depiction of economic injustice in this world, it moves the viewer to comment. As the candle-maker tells Macario, "We are born to die …We spend most of our time dead." It is in contemplating death that we understand life in so far as we have only one; and it is this that makes us question injustice. The near to last scene is unforgettable. Few scenes are as memorable: J'Accuse, the 7th Seal, Ordet are the rare exceptions along with this film. It leaves is with 2 burning questions : What is life? Is it nothing more than a candle that burns for awhile then is spent? What is justice? In a Capitalist world can it be anything more than a concept that like an object can be bought and sold with money?

It is not surprising that this film from 1960 became one of the greatest classics of Mexican cinema, a paramount production from its Golden Age. Very innovative, it is a fantasy drama which addresses hunger, social inequalities, the Catholic Church and it is inquisition. The hungry Macario will make decisions that will be decisive, concerning a turkey, the Devil, God and Death. By the way, I cannot help but mention a curious dark detail: every time Macario says he will not eat anything and prefers to starve than to eat a small portion, his children laugh happily because they will have a little more food. That was funny but also harsh!