Cochochi

Children growing up and becoming responsible teenagers (or not); boys being rebellious or obedient, shyly joking about girls, liking or running away from school; defying authority and doing what they are not supposed to, and then having to assume responsibility. The story, as universal as a coming-of-age story can be, is that of Cochochi, the remarkable first feature by Laura Amelia Guzmán and Israel Cárdenas.

The tone is also universal and natural, but there is one particular detail that sets it apart from your usual teen flick: it is set in the Tarahumara Sierra, a rural zone of Chihuahua, Mexico, among the indigenous Raramuri people. But this is not what makes it most special. It's the fact that it tells this story without the slightest hint of exoticism or condescendence, and through a gaze that feels authentic, honest and dignified.

Evaristo and Luis Antonio ("Tony") Lerma Torres — the names of the characters and of the actors — are two brothers finishing elementary school. Evaristo loves studying, unlike Tony who, nevertheless, does so well that he gets a scholarship to continue his education, though he doesn't even attend their graduation ceremony. (The reason he gives for his absence towards the end is delightful.) When they're sent out to deliver some medicine to relatives in another town, Tony decides to take their grandfather's horse, though they are not allowed to. In the middle of the journey, they lose the horse and then lose each other. Each one goes through his own adventures during the separate search, which takes both through other towns and new encounters. When they finally find each other they have to assume their responsibility, understanding how important the horse is for their family's subsistence, and they must also decide about what they want to do next with their lives: study or work the earth.

Though at some point in their separate journeys the rhythm seems to stretch things out slightly, the film's overall structure is very precise and quickly seduces without much effort. The use of music is also very accurate, to transmit not just the atmosphere, but often to set the beat of the action. The cinematography, by Guzmán and Cárdenas, reaches a delicate balance between boasting the awesome beauty of the landscape and avoiding the postcard image. The environment's greatness participates in the story, not just as a backdrop but as a determining feature, and it is photographed accordingly.

The outstanding quality of Cochochi and its respectful tone implicitly questions an attitude that concerns all domains, and cinema in one of the first instances since, by using nature, it involves both looking at and portraying (a person, a group, a reality, a concept...) The camera indicates a position in relation to the subject, which is way too often one of superiority when that subject is a minority or underprivileged community. Even with the best intentions, the approach is usually patronizing, looking at the other through its difference or novelty.

Cochochi's approach is so natural that of course it highlights the difference, precisely by incorporating it as a normal part of another kind of everyday reality. The coexistence of Raramuri and Spanish languages, the use of the radio to send out both private and practical messages to other towns, the material difficulties, the ways of relating to strangers so differently to that of the city and other particularities of life in the Sierra are simply integrated into the story, the storytelling and the image.

This all contributes to making Cochochi a fine piece of film-making, accurately shot and built; a lovely, fun and moving story about children, and an (unfortunately) exceptional example of love and respect for the subject.

Having lived in the Sierra Tarahumara for ten years, I can say that this is the most sensitive, authentic, portrayal of life there, among the Raramuri, that I have ever seen. The verbal communication is 100% authentic, as is the pace of the film. It doesn't surprise me that all the reviewers don't "get" this movie. I applaud the makers of this remarkable film for its complete honesty and accuracy. I don't know how they achieved the subtleties in this portrayal unless they had spent a great deal of time there. Seeing the film put me right back there. In fact I think much of it was shot near my Rancho. It makes me long to go back and be with my Raramuri friends but watching it is just like being there. This film is a look into Raramuri life without any agenda on the part of the filmmakers. Absolutely wonderful!

Combining endlessly charming performances by real-life brothers Evaristo and Antonio Lerma Batista with beautiful Tarahumara landscapes, COCHOCHI captures a simpler world seemingly unaffected by modern times.

One young Tarahumara brother is thrilled to be in elementary school and learning new subjects in Spanish. The other wants to drop out and return to the family ranch, where traditional Tarahumara ways prevail. When their grandfather asks them to take medicine across the mountains to another town on his horse, the brothers lose the horse and then each other, setting them off on different adventures through Sierra Tarahumara communities.

The brothers Batista turn in realistic and intelligent performances that break the clichés of child actors, which lend the film itself an undeniable realism. Through this story of two brothers, debut directors Israel Cárdenas and Laura Amelia Guzmán make an engaging film that, in spite of its modest means, records an indigenous community under change without the critical eye of outside analysis.

Cochochi is a glimpse into rural existence in the mountains of northwestern Mexico. Transportation is by donkey, broken-down bicycle or beat-up truck. The local radio station relays personal messages. When a message is aired that a relative needs medicine, Evaristo and Tony are sent to deliver it. Reluctant to travel the Tarahumara Sierra on foot, the boys steal their grandfather's only workhorse, ride happily away and get lost. Then they lose the horse and while searching for it also lose each other in the mist. This film is not for everyone. It moves slowly, the actors are non-professionals, some scenes seem gratuitous, a documentary-like look at how it is in these parts. But even so Cochochi is unforgettable. It touches the heart.

The romanticization of indigenous people to the point of being unable to grasp the full implications of their backwardness is an unfortunately familiar phenomenon in present-day "industrialized" society. In the minds of many middle class liberals, a romanticized and correspondingly "non-judgmental" attitude toward such cultures is the only permissible one. The problem with this attitude, of course, is that it contributes little to changing the conditions of the oppressed. The surprising thing here is that this attitude is expressed by reviewers rather than by the filmmakers!

If you don't already know that oppressed indigenous people can be sullen, uncommunicative and mean-spirited, then, perhaps, there is some point to seeing this film. I write "perhaps" because the three IMDb reviews that have appeared thus far indicate that seeing this film was not sufficient for deepening one's understanding. "I didn't feel I gained any huge understanding of what made the culture distinct from other rural Mexican ones (or even rural ones in general)" wrote one of the reviewers.

Two of the three reviewers complained of the "poor performances" turned in by the "amateurish" cast members. According to them, the unscripted actors spoke "in delayed fits and starts" and "took a lot of time deciding what to say, giving their on-screen relationships a very disconnected feel." The clear implication is that filmmakers Cárdenas and Guzmán were simply too inexperienced to produce the rapidly flowing dialogue that these reviewers expected. Was it so difficult to imagine that the subjects of "Cochochi" actually behave this way? Reviewer "death-hilarious" hoped for a "charming example of back to basics story telling." Perhaps he would have preferred clever and amusing natives along the lines of the South African comedy "The Gods Must Be Crazy."

My impression is that Cárdenas and Guzmán knew this culture very well, intended to portray it as realistically as possible — warts and all — and succeeded brilliantly. But, did they have a deeper purpose beyond anthropological reportage? Reviewer "death-hilarious" claimed to know (and appreciated) what the directors "tried to do with this film for the Tarahumara." What was that, exactly? The program that often underlies cinematic efforts of this type is that of informing the audience of the subjects' oppression in order to stir them to call for reforms to relieve that oppression. Did it serve this purpose to show several of the characters as either delinquent (including an incredibly irresponsible grandfather) or nasty and brutish? Did this not risk supplying ammunition to the reactionary viewer who is convinced that the impoverished condition of native people is "their own fault"?

In my opinion, the film does not supply sufficient information to unambiguously determine the filmmakers' purpose. It does supply evidence, however, for a program quite different from the more usual one cited above. In his speech to the elementary school's graduating class, the school's principal, speaking in Spanish (a second language for his students), holds up as a goal for his graduates that they become teachers and someday return to the school to teach future generations. This, the patriotic trooping of the Mexican flag and the final scene certainly convey a notion of the "true" road to progress. Thus, "Cochochi" can be seen as an admonition to the backward native: give up your old-fashioned language and ways, learn Spanish and join the rest of the nation! The viewer may wish to ponder the question of whether or not propagating this schema justified the expenditure of $400,000. I hope I may be excused for thinking that this sum could have been spent in a manner more appropriate to advancing the condition of the people the film portrayed. Reviewer "cochochi" thought that some of the scenes seemed "gratuitous." (Which ones?) My saddest thought is that this adjective may properly describe the entire project.

Barry Freed