jeanmaru

This film addresses serious issues without being heavy-handed or pedantic. The characters are complex individuals, the setting is authentic, the dialog is realistic, often tinged with humor. Some of the film's most charming moments are silent, with only a child's face filling the screen. The humor comes from the characters' personalities, not from contrived situations. There is not a single false note of melodrama or farce in this film. Luis Tosar gives such an understated performance that he disappears into his character. Lissete Mejia and Marilyn Torres anchor the film with nuanced, memorable performances. They are the reason to watch this film.

This is one of those movies that get better with age. I first saw it ten years ago, when Mira Sorvino was an unknown actress, and I was surprised to learn later that she wasn't really Spanish. (I lived in Spain for five years, so I'm not easily fooled.) If you've been to Barcelona, you'll like the glowing glimpses of the city, sun-drenched during the day, lit by neon and fireworks at night. There is much charming, often subtle, humor in the film. Who could resist Taylor Nichols dancing alone in his dining room while reading the Bible? Or Chris Eigeman using a felt tip pen to change anti-American graffiti from "American pigs" to "American deer"? Sure, the film is talky, but it doesn't take itself too too seriously.

The reason to watch this movie is Mercedes Sampietro as Liliana, wife of Fernando, the male protagonist. Fernando rhapsodizes about how he and his wife are so comfortable in each other's silences, but the audience does not get to enjoy these silences, because he keeps interrupting with voice-overs, which are excerpts from his journal, aka Notebook #19 (thankfully, he doesn't read #1-18). At the beginning of the film, Fernando lectures his university students, future teachers themselves, about getting students to think critically and to ask questions. But the film doesn't give the audience time to think. Instead, it hits us over the head with Fernando's pedantic pronouncements. The character of Liliana is an ideal wife who can't possibly exist except in the imagination, but Sampietro makes her believable and sympathetic. Fernando and Liliana's marriage is based on love and trust, which we'd know from watching them interact, but instead we have to suffer through a bizarre scene in which an attractive middle-aged woman flirts with Fernando, then gets teary-eyed during his long-winded speech about marital fidelity. I'm sure the director meant the tears differently, but I interpreted them as tears of boredom.