Hamaca paraguaya

Cynics, or those that didn't take to it and are just out to destroy the film, will point out a certain line of dialogue uttered by one of the very, very few characters in this piece about half way in; when they exclaim a personal ideology along the lines of "the more you wait around, the more chance there is of something happening". This 2006, one of very few Paraguayan films I have either heard of or come across, piece is entitled Paraguayan Hammock, and is indeed all about waiting around, killing the time, thinking, wondering, speculating and attempting to become more in touch with a spiritual side you might posses. The occurrence of the above quotation sort of lifts the film up a level into a realm of the self-aware, where-in the very thesis of the film's study lies.

The setting is Paraguay and it's 1935. The two predominant characters, named Ramón and Candida, spend most their time, whilst inhabiting the film's present equilibrium, in a hammock; forever waiting for the their son to return from war; waiting and wondering if it will rain so as to benefit the surrounding rural land; waiting and wondering if a nearby dog will stop barking; waiting and wondering what the menacing, nearby thunder will do. Don't get me wrong, I liked the film but only up to a certain level. Paraguyan Hammock is interested in those moments or passages in life in-between the agony and the ecstasy, such as the son going off to war and either coming home fit, healthy and alive or not at all and such as to whether there will be a heavy rainfall so their surrounding rural locale can benefit.

Ramón and Candida inhabit a space that is a hammock, something so important to the film-makers that they name their piece after said prop. This prop is bound at either end to two separate trees, signifying the only physical contact to the rest of world at any one time. The hammock doubles up as a very specific space, and it sees its two central performers suspended above the ground, perhaps indeed the world they inhabit, for a good duration of the film. Here, they talk and muse for very long periods of time about worries and concerns and the world around them; the hammock offers a space in which they can observe. The fact they take it down now and again to shift away from annoying, nearby dogs that consistently bark might be read into as an allegory that there just isn't any room for them anymore and they they feel most things are coming to an end: their lives, their rural livelihood and any contact with their son they might have through fear of loosing him in the war going on. These are indeed tough times for Ramón and Candida.

But if the film makes this point, then it makes it fairly quickly. Although the film clocks in at 78 minutes, it actually, and rather disappointingly, feels longer. The film plays like a documentary at some points, with long takes and compositions of people just inhabiting, but not engaging with, their surroundings. It only really becomes cinematic again when it breaks away for flashbacks of days gone by and interactions between Ramón and his son on their farm. During this time, the film will throw in some rather tiring shots of pieces of fruit tumbling out of sacks and in one particularly disappointing sequence, the film will have Ramón talk of the dangers of warfare and the probabilities of death prior to his leaving - this as trees are felled in the background and certainly emphasised. The symbolism between life and death and something falling out of place when it is predominantly assured everything will be fine is one of a few aspects that should have worked better than they do.

The rumbling thunder, which the the film-makers deliberately intensify later on, acts as an odd, off-screen symbolistic presence that juxtaposes both the prospect of rain and hope for the couple but could also be read into as off screen explosions and sound effects of warfare, simultaneously reminding us of their son and his situation. But again, you're only going to get as much out of this if you initially buy into Paraguyan Hammock's approach, that being of the slow burning and very observant variety and then get a kick out of its, essentially, relatively straight forward fore-warnings of destruction and hope through both on and off screen symbolism.

I have a feeling we're still to see the best of writer/director Paz Encina, someone who isn't afraid of supremely artistic approaches to subjects. His style of shooting long takes of the absolute everyday and mundane is there, but his cutting away to the skies above, plus clouds, in between lines of dialogue during these extended ten or so minute takes mask the fact he isn't using quality acting talent who can deliver long passages of neo-realistic dialogue for extended periods. It also suggests there is something deeper behind said compositions of the skies, when in reality, they're probably acting as cutaways that cover up acting talent failings. Nevertheless, Paraguyan Hammock is an ambitious piece; a film that pauses for reflection in a, more often than not, refreshing manner. If you're willing to take a step back from your fast and frenetic (some might say 'Americanised') and more popular South American offerings in Express Kidnapping and City of God, then chances are you'll enjoy this.

Pusan Film Festival Reviews 9: Hamaca Paraguaya (Paz Encina)

Here is a film that's created a polarizing reaction at film festivals, where some are inclined to take its painfully dull miserablism as brilliance. It's difficult for me to say that a film of serious intent is completely without merit, but "Hamaca Paraguaya" comes close. I can only guess that the film is an attempt to somehow capture the feeling of growing old and slowly dying, as that's exactly how I felt while sitting through it. First time director Paz Encina pulls off the dubious feat of making festival entrants Tsai Ming-liang, Apichatpong Weerasethakul, and Aki Kaurismaki look like directors of epic action pictures.

I'm quickly becoming hostile to the static long-shot held for an interminable length of time. Within the span of the film's nearly 10-minute opening shot (the first of less than thirty), with a pair of old people sitting on a hammock in a forest clearing mumbling repetitively in voice-over, the realization dawned that this 75-minute film was going to be a long haul. There are moments where the film very, very briefly acts like it might do something of interest, but those hopes are quickly dashed as the camera returns to the clearing, the hammock, and the mumbling old folks.

Why would a young woman, making the first film in her impoverished country since the 1970s, make one without a pulse? Anything of relevance that the film has to say about war, sorrow, and aging, loses all impact due to its deliberately alienating design. New art from obscure places should be encouraged, but art needs much more than what was on display in this film.

I went to see 'Hamaca Paraguaya' at an early morning screening at the 2006 Toronto International Film Festival. Unsure of what to expect, other than a film which takes place almost exclusively around a hammock, I entered the sparsely populated theatre with tired eyes.

Within moments after the film began, I was mesmerized. The monotony of the lives of Ramón and Candida was mirrored by the progression of the film. But instead of becoming boring, the film evoked a sort of slow cadence that was very refreshing and meditative. The sounds of the rainy Paraguayan jungle provided a beautiful backdrop to the conversations between an old man and an old woman waiting for their son to return home.

As a simple, evocative film, Hamaca Paraguaya succeeds admirably. If you go see this, and I really hope many people do: please go in without preconceived notions of it being boring. Instead, let it envelope your emotions and thoughts. By the end, I wished I could sit back in a Paraguayan hammock, and just live.

Thursday Sept. 28, 2006. When the movie starts I was almost jumped from my seat because surely I was the only person in Vancity Theatre that speak the same language of the protagonists. But, as the movie goes on, my feeling went down. Finally, me and my friend have to get out. Then, the lady from the front desk said: "Ooh, what is going on here. You're the second person that went out saying how boring is the movie". My respect for the try of the director, but this movie is awfully long in a short 78 minutes. I born and grow in Paraguay, I thought would be special for me to go and see a movie made it in the country where I coming from. But that was really flop. Recommendation: bring the pillow because 78 minutes could be perfectly 8 hours long. Then my friend ask her money back at the counter. Too late...

If the movie seems long, it's because it's supposed so. This isn't a blockbuster film, nor is it anything like a big-budget flick coming out of Hollywood. This is one of those films that focus on film-making as an art, not a business. The way the movie is made is only a reflection of what the movie is about: a man and his wife, isolated farmers in Paraguay's back country, waiting. Waiting for rain, waiting for a son who has gone off to war, just waiting. I think Paz Encina took a big risk with this movie; many people WILL feel disappointed. However, those people that look at films as art, and not just as money-making endeavours, will see the brilliance in every single one of the movie's 78 minutes. The message of the film is perfectly portrayed, not only by the fantastic acting and the perfect soundtrack, but also by the right-on directing of Encina.