Jauja

After really loving the first Alonso film I saw, 'Los Muertos', I've struggled somewhat with his films I've seen since. For some reason Alonso's dedication to vaguely mythic and very enigmatic storytelling worked great for me in 'Los Muertos' -- creating a deeply disturbing portrait of a man who is leaving prison and returning to his family, perhaps to kill them (or perhaps not).

Jauja is also the familial story of a man on a mythic journey, in this case a Danish Captain in the army, stationed in an unspecific south or central American country that is in the midst of being colonized by the Spanish, with the Danish presence seeming to be one of both rivalry and co- operation. Viggo Mortensen (always excellent) plays the Captain, who has brought his daughter with him (why he would bring her to such a hostile, dangerous and male dominated environment is never made clear). When she runs off with a young soldier, Mortensen's character heads out to find her, and ends up traveling into his own soul, with the lines blurring between real and imagined, reality and surrealism.

The film looks great, and has a lot of striking and memorable moments. But after two viewings, I wasn't sure quite what it was saying, and – worse – I'm not entirely convinced it does either. That said, there are enough things I admire; the odd photography, the many strange and discomforting images and incidents that stick in my head like memories of a bad dream, that I'm willing to forgive it's frustrations. To a point.

So refreshing to see a film that is not afraid to play around with the conventional idea of linear narrative. An intriguing blend of Tarkovsky, Apocalypse Now, and Bela Tar. It made me want to follow up this director's earlier films. The attention span of many film goers seems to be shrinking fast, judging by the criticisms of the lingering shots which Juaja features. Novels, music and art installations all play with time and space, and film can do the same, in the right hands, as here. Credit to Mortensen for lending his 'name' to a project like this, and for giving such a restrained performance. The real star of Juaja is the landscape, which silently conveys the truth that wild nature will always trump human activity.

I went to see director Lisandro Alonso's 'Jauja' especially because his earlier trilogy blew me away. 'La Libertad' (2001), 'Los Muertos' (2004) and 'Fantasma' (2006) each observe a solitary man – a survivor – roaming through the jungle wordlessly, like a wild animal. (The setting of 'Fantasma' is urban, but can also metaphorically be regarded as a jungle.) A decade later, I am still amazed by the power of those films and by how little they rely on plot, dialogue or props. Alonso's 2008 effort, 'Liverpool', is also minimalist and follows a similar theme, but tells a slightly more specific story.

'Jauja' is more elaborate than any of Alonso's previous work. As in 'Liverpool', there is something like a plot and very limited, but significant dialogue (in Spanish, Danish and French, in this case). A gorgeous, more sophisticated cinematography presents landscapes that bring to mind 19th Century oil paintings. This is a period film that involves realistic costumes and the kind of beautifully crafted tools used by explorers and the military in the 1800s. Also, 'Jauja' features a famous actor, Viggo Mortensen of 'The Lord of the Rings', who co-produced it and co-wrote the musical score. I think this was all a great way for Alonso to try something new and fresh, without giving up his very unique style and aesthetics.

Don't expect a linear, mainstream film or you may be disappointed. This is an art-house Western – a strange, slow-paced ride through the vast, open space of the Argentine Patagonia. It addresses the exhilarating sense of adventure, but also of violence and dread, that one might experience in the hinterland. The story reminds me of Joseph Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness', in that it depicts a struggle between the forces of "civilization" and the primitive, while also drawing a parallel between the wilderness of outdoor nature and our subconscious. (Alonso's film 'Los Muertos', which shows a man travelling along a river, may also have a link to Conrad's short novel.) The film's tempo, surreal situations and the use of places as a reference to states of mind are reminiscent of Tarkovsky's 'Stalker' or 'Solaris'.

We are explained that "Jauja" is a mythical land of abundance, something akin to paradise, whose search in the old days drove many to ruin. Dinesen (Mortensen) aims to establish order in a distant, foreign land, but keeps running into unruly behavior, left and right. It's as if the indomitable spirit of the desert possessed everyone around him and suggested to him – with its dreamy voice, sometimes forcefully, sometimes playfully – that his stubbornly controlling approach towards life is misguided, a lost cause. Perhaps more than in any other film he's made, the director achieves communicating something magical and ethereal, pointing to the deep, enigmatic wisdom that we each hold inside, but are afraid to listen to. The ending may imply that all these characters are, in fact, interconnected, showing different sides of the same stone (much like the "animus" and "anima" in Jungian psychology describe the male and female aspects in every person, for example).

Like Alonso's earlier trilogy, 'Jauja' poetically hints at the magnificence and mystery of human life in God's garden. Its images and sounds seem to come from far, far away, yet somehow feel eerily familiar and close.

I'm all for complex dramas even if they're extremely slow paced. However, when it comes to nearly indecipherable plot elements and extremely slow pacing, I'd rather watch paint dry.

This is one of those movies that maybe a select few cinephiles and critics will tell us is poetry in motion. I guess if you're one of the unsophisticated like myself, you very well may not have the slightest clue what is taking place on screen. I know I didn't.

The fine actor Viggo Mortensen's talents are nearly completely wasted here in this totally confusing mess of a movie. I'm glad some have found it to their liking, but to me it was totally incoherent, as I kept waiting for some of it to make sense. Good luck with that!

Many films that try to do what Jauja did fall flat due to one simple flaw. Tedium. Many drone on and on till even the most patient film goer ends up bored and any deeper meaning of the film is lost to them.

Jauja is a slow paced, quiet, and visual film, but it never feels wearing. There's a sense of pace, a slow pace, but a pace and a rhythm that never makes it difficult to watch.

It is made up largely of long, beautiful shots, usually devoid of any music and containing only minimalist dialog. The whole affair has a sort of dreamlike feel. This movie is far less about characters and story and meaning than it is about tone and mood and aesthetics. If it's an aesthetic you enjoy than the film will engross you.

All that said I wasn't truly blown away by it. Nothing really ever shocked or grabbed or awed me. It was beautiful, it was enjoyable, but not really inspiriting on any higher level. It is in the end like a very nice dream, pleasant while you're in it, worth remembering after, but not really anything that carries with you long after waking.