Macario

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!

This was Mexico's first contender for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar (which was also up for the Palme D'Or at Cannes): to be honest, I only became aware of it myself recently while looking for links to "Mexi-Horror" outings on "You Tube" (it is indeed a fantasy but not a scary one, and far from goofy)! In fact, I acquired a copy of this one online that included slightly oversized burnt-in English subtitles. Its viewing followed hard on the heels of THE TRUTH and KAPO', which were the French and Italian entries in the same Academy Awards category – with the only nominee now remaining unavailable (and, consequently, unwatched) being the Yugoslavian competitor THE NINTH CIRCLE. The winner emerged Sweden's THE VIRGIN SPRING – which, like the movie under review, was a fascinating parable; incidentally, both films again found themselves in the running at Cannes, with the Ingmar Bergman title getting a "Special Mention" but the top prize being awarded to Federico Fellini's LA DOLCE VITA.

MACARIO (nothing to do with a lowbrow Italian comic that goes by this very name!) deals with a poor Mexican wood-cutter who, rather selfishly, wishes that he could feed on a turkey but without sharing it with anyone, not even his plentiful family!; to be fair to him, he does go on a hunger strike in protest at the unfairness of the class system! His wife (played by tragic actress Pina Pellicer, best-known for her role in Marlon Brando's ONE-EYED JACKS {1961}) obliges by stealing the bird in question from the wealthy mansion for which she washes the laundry, hiding it even from her husband and then surprising him when he wakes up to go to work the next morning. As he lies down to feast on the turkey, he receives three visits from different men all requesting that they partake of the man's lunch: these obviously symbolize the Devil (appearing in the guise of a bandit), God (a shepherd) and Death (a beggar). Weighing his options, Macario accepts the latter's presence at his 'table' and, in gratitude, is given healing powers…but only to those Death himself indicates!

Soon, the protagonist has his hands full with patients (beginning with his own son, who fell down a well) – to the consternation of the local doctor and undertaker – and, growing increasingly respectable, relocates to a big house in the town centre. Eventually, the Viceroy (played by "Euro-Cult" regular Eduardo Fajardo) comes to call in order to save the life of his own offspring – but Death appears at the head of the bed in his case, the sign that he is not to subsist. Macario tries to persuade him to show mercy (apart from turning the bed around a number of times so as to appear that Death wants the child to be spared after all) – for his own sake at least, since the Inquisition has also turned up determined to expose him as a charlatan or a sorcerer and have the hero burned at the stake! He is, however, given one last chance and asked to point out who from among a cell housing various convicts, and with the public hangman thrown in as a lark, is to make it out alive: when Macario states that all will survive (including one who had been sentenced to death) but the executioner himself, the prosecutors believe they finally got him trapped…but an attendant immediately reports that the man in question has indeed expired from a heart attack and the condemned man has been suddenly reprieved! The downbeat and irony-tinged conclusion, then, takes us back to the all-important turkey-eating deep in the forest…

The narrative's inherent simplicity is countered throughout by the renowned Gabriel Figueroa's expert lighting – perhaps seen to best advantage towards the end when Death invites Macario to his cave where the whole of humanity is represented by burning candles a' la Fritz Lang's DESTINY (1921); interestingly, he would recapture the "Day of the Dead" celebrations – seen here in the film's opening stages – for John Huston's UNDER THE VOLCANO some 24 years later! For the record, the script was based on a novel by the mysterious B. Traven (author of the source material that formed the basis of Huston's own 1948 Oscar-winning classic THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE – coincidentally, too, Traven was born on the very day I watched this)! Besides, the supporting cast includes a number of faces familiar from films Luis Bunuel made during his Mexican tenure. As for director Gavaldon, I ought to mention that I also own but have yet to check out his THE LITTLEST OUTLAW (1955), co- starring Maltese character actor Joseph Calleia. One last thing: judging by the "Critic Reviews" MACARIO gets on the IMDb, it does seem to have a definite cult following – which makes its obscurity to this viewer somewhat baffling; in retrospect, the end result indeed constitutes a minor genre classic worthy of greater exposure.

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!

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.

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?