Chicanonautica: Ugly Things From Mexico

by Ernest Hogan

Isaac Ezban’s The Similars (Los Parecidos) hit me like an electric cattle prod to the pineal gland. I was impressed, and eager for more, but not right away. Too much of this stuff can warp you, and I have a straight job that requires me to be somewhat socially acceptable. I waited awhile, found Cosas Feas on YouTube, (it’s also on Vimeo) then when I felt like I could use a proper jolt, I gave it a watch.

Before the beginning, there a listing of a lot of awards it won and festivals it was selected for. It has quite a reputation. In a few years, people will start calling it a classic.

The title, Cosas Feas, is officially translated to Nasty Stuff, though it literally means, “ugly things,” and in the twisted tradition of Spanish profanity, is used like “pieces of shit.”

All fair warning. Do not see Cosas Feas if your sensibilities or constitutions are delicate. It gets nasty, and ugly, mostly shot through a fish-eye lens.

It’s the story of 11 year-old Kriko Krankinsky. His first sex education class forces a crisis that ends up revealing  not only his sexuality, but just what kind of immigrants he and his family are. Their legal status is never mentioned, but they sure are alien.

Yeah, aliens. We’re talking stark, raving sci-fi, with a bad attitude with fake scratches to make it like an ancient flick on TV, way after midnight. It also recreates the effects such movies had on the preadolescent mind of this old, jaded guy who’s been binging on such madness for over half a century.

Cosas Feas uses scenes from the capitalist propaganda cartoon Destination Earth, and the adolescent angst exploitation classic Teenagers From Outer Space.

And I probably should mention that it has one on the most outrageous explicit sex scenes ever.

Ezban could do a great version of William S. Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. He has a real feeling for sexual anxiety, and insects. Move over Luis Buñuel, John Waters, Alejandro Jodorowsky, David Lynch, Terry Gilliam, Guillermo Del Toro . . .

There’s also the fear of immigrants, so popular on this side of the border these days (but I don’t think we’ll be seeing a special showing at the White House, and/or an enthusiastic tweet from El Presidente).

Cosas Feas is also very Mexican. There’s a gonzo/ Felliniesque distorted realism, but also a peculiar humanity. Characters that are alien in how they act and look come off as sympathetic.

After all, the real aliens come from inside us, rather than outer space.

Ernest Hogan will be at Phoenix Comic Fest, May 24-26, helping his wife Emily Devenport publicize her new book Medusa Uploaded, as well has his own activities.

Chicanonautica: Weird Scenes in a Mexican Bus Station

by Ernest Hogan

Sometimes it’s best for art to come at you like an assassin’s bullet. One moment you’re just a happy consumer, trying to score some entertainment--then BANG!--your brains are scrambled. And the universe isn’t going to look the same anymore.

That’s the effect that science fiction had on me when I was a child back in the Fabulous Fifties, staring that the glow of a tiny black-and-white TV screen, and occasionally the blazing Technicolor glory of a drive-in under a starless SoCal sky.

I wasn’t expecting anything like that night when my wife and I were looking to amuse ourselves on Netflix. Something horror/sff-ish would be nice. Just the thing to unwind to after a day of the usual insanity.

There was something called The Similars that looked promising. A 2015 film from Mexico, originally called Los Parecidos. It was about people trapped in a Mexican bus station on a dark and stormy night.

In my travels, I’ve spent time in a few South-of-the-Border bus stations. They make their gringo counterparts seem sterile, safe zones. They have a way of generating situations out of Kafka, Buñuel, or Jodorowsky. A good setting for a spooky little flick.

However, The Similars is a helluvalot more than a spooky little flick. More than a sci-fi eye fry. It’s a serious brain scrambler.

Writer/director/producer Isaac Ezban merrily assaults the audience’s expectations. Suddenly, I was that little Eastlos boy, once again being savaged by a roaring, flickering screen. This doesn’t happen very often.

Ezban must have absorbed a lot weird pop culture at an impressionable age. There’s a voice-over intro and outro like Twilight Zone and Outer Limits. There are shades of Philip K. Dick, Mexican comic books, and the entire invaders-from-outer-space genre.

But, wait--there’s more!

This isn’t another case of a fanboy regurgitating undigested source material. Ezban has added some weird shit of own to the steamy mix. An I indigenous woman offers an supernatural alternative to the eccentric, sci-fi explanation. The claustrophobic drama proceeds with a intensity that magnifies the effects of some of the strangest, most disturbing surrealistic imagery in the history of cinema that stand out even on this era when special effects are no big deal.

At one point my wife had to stop watching, but she later told me that I had to review it.

And it takes place on October 2, 1968--the day of the massacre of student protesters in Mexico City’s Tlatelolco Plaza. That’s right history and politics seep in. No place is safe.

Also, it has an apocalyptic event happening in’68, while having it make sense that that world as we think we know it seems be going on.

I am struggling not to commit any spoilers. Hope I don’t hurt myself.

Did I mention that it intrudes into high-brow/art film territory?

I am happy to report that the Mexican science fiction film has made a Great Leap Forward--or should that be One Giant Leap?-- this decade (thought I still enjoy the old, cheap funky stuff, but when I’m the the mood for that, there’s always Nollywood) and the world has another badass, mad genius of an auteur. Just what we need in this time when Hollywood has started giving Oscars to Mexicans.

I’ll be checking out Ezban’s other films, and looking out for more, and will let you know about it.

To be continued . . .

 

Ernest Hogan enjoys wallowing in bizarre imagery and doesn’t care who knows it.

When the Heart Bleeds: A Review of Iñárritu’s Latest Film, The Revenant

By Guest Blogger Maritza Alvarez

“My heart bleeds, but revenge is in the Creator's hands”

-Hikuc (The Revenant, 2015)

 

Hugh Glass (DiCaprio)
Standing Before a Pyramid of Bison Skulls

 

 

Alejandro González Iñárritu’s most recent film, The Revenant, is a period piece intimately told. It awakens the senses and repeatedly wrings at the chest, making the heart bleed. Iñárritu’s film gives us multi-dimensional characters, minimal dialogue, breathtaking cinematography, impeccable sound design, poetic editing and phenomenal performances. Loosely based on Michael Punke's novel, The Revenant follows the account of an early 1800's American fur trapper, Hugh Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio). During the film, we accompany Glass on his relentless quest for revenge after surviving a brutal wrestling match with an angry momma grizzly bear. Glass' revenge is not targeted at the grizzly but rather at his peer John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), who out of greed and self-interest attempts to murder Glass when he is at his most vulnerable state--injured and immobile due to the grizzly's recent attack. Fitzgerald commits other heinous crimes against Glass before abandoning him to die in the gelid wilderness.

Glass (DiCaprio) Left for Dead After Grizzly Attack

As the story unfolds, we witness the protagonist's relentless determination to physically endure the harsh conditions and terrain. Through Hugh's journey, we are introduced to the key characters that essentially help to keep Hugh Glass alive. Glass’s deceased Pawnee wife (Grace Dove) flies in and out of his dreams, providing him the required strength to keep trekking onward. Through her visits, we witness the plight of the destruction of her village and people.  Hawk (Forrest Goodluck), Hugh's only son, is half-Pawnee and half-white, and as a result he gets called a “half-breed dog” by some of other fur traders. Although Hawk verbally defends himself, Glass immediately reminds his son that if he wants to stay alive, he must remain invisible and keep his mouth shut, because they (the White men) do not hear him. They only see the color of his face.

Glass and Young Hawk

Hikuc (Arthur RedCloud), a Pawnee man, travels south to reconnect with extended family. He has compassion for Glass’s needs and admires his determination to survive from the vicious bear attack. Hikuc befriends Glass and gently doctors him during a severe winter storm. Then there is Pawaqa (Melaw Nakehk’o), the Sioux daughter of Elk Dog (Duane Howard), who is abducted and repeatedly raped by a band of American fur traders. She is later assisted by Glass, and has the opportunity for sweet revenge. Throughout the scenes with these secondary characters, stunning cutaways are creatively utilized to allow the audience a moment to reflect, and to catch a much needed breath.

Duane Howard as Elk Dog

Although the film does have indigenous characters and storylines, it's important to note that The Revenant is ultimately not an indigenous story. It's the story of a white man, just like Birdman was the story of a white man. The fact that a Mexican director is behind the scenes of these white American stories is what intrigues. Iñárritu gives Americans exactly what they want (think The Fugitive meets Dances With Wolves) but always with a bit of a twist. Through the character of Hugh Glass, Iñárritu skillfully appeals to the general American audiences' narcissistic desire to see themselves portrayed as the all-American hero. Iñárritu, however, uses his all-American hero to inject social and historical elements into the film that are rarely explored in Hollywood. The film, for instance, does shed some light on the often overlooked American and French’s violent treatment of First Nations peoples (Arikaree and Pawnee), and the ongoing rape and pillaging of the women and the land which was justified by Manifest Destiny and American capitalism.

Perhaps the most interesting thread in the film is nature. Early on, Hugh's encounter with the grizzly is symbolic of the overall theme: man vs. nature. From the onset, the audience is captivated by the silences and sounds of mother nature and her vast photogenic landscapes. It was the nature in this movie that continuously impressed me and enhanced the overall drama and action.

Mother nature becomes a full-fledged character in this film. From the extreme close-up shots of the golden autumn leaves frozen in winter ice, we see her beauty. From the torrential teal waterfall glaciers surrendering to the roaring river, we hear her songs. And from the glistening dense emerald forests, where sunlight rays extend their hands for a dance with the hanging moth strands on giant pine trees, we feel her tenderness. As a viewer, one is transported into the grand vastness of mother nature and her profound spiritual and physical powers. The audience is pulled into the story at every juncture and often times reminded to stop and pay attention to the full spectrum of the beauty that lies within the landscape, from the macro to the micro. We can’t help to be humbled by her grandness and awe-struck by her fierce and gentle strength. We are virtually guided to reconnect to her in order to better understand the harsh juxtapositions between nature and man. In this way, we are reminded that mother nature, like man, is complex. She cannot be understood in singular terms. For man to attempt to understand her, he must listen, keenly observe, and ultimately maintain an intimate and reciprocal relationship with her and all her inhabitants. As a human species, in order to survive and to evolve, man must connect with her on her terms. Iñárritu creates an exemplary film to remind us of this simple but profound truth.

 Iñárritu: Borrowed from Getty Images

Should Antonio Banderas Play Cesar Chávez?

Review: Cesar Chávez, the Movie.

Michael Sedano

Imagine the hushed auditorium, ticket buyers lean forward as one, dreading the unseen menace of the growers. Antonio Banderas shouts fluently to the grape pickers, “¡en las uvas si se puede!” and switches to English, “join us, they don’t pay you enough!” 

Lots of sky shots, close ups of a burning sun, sweaty faces, a wrinkled grandmother, a teenage schoolgirl, bunches of green grapes. Mandy Pantinkin as the evil major domo advances on Banderas Chavez, seen in profile flirting with the smudged-face beauty. Chavez tenderly touches her cheek, cut to Dolores Huerta bristling, America Ferrera wiping her brow. The abuela gives her chifle and the girl steps back, lips mouthing “tonight.” CU of a hopeful Banderas Cesar Chávez. John Malkovich, face all restrained vehemence, nods imperceptibly into the camera. Pantinkin leaps with murderous eyes.

CU of the schoolgirl calling warning, “on your six, jefe!” Chavez wheels on Pantinkin, catches a fist on the shoulder. Cesar Chávez grins, says “You get one free, vato, and that was it.” Banderas leg-sweeps Pantinkin who thuds onto his back. Banderas Chavez pivots on the back leg to straddle the stunned major domo. The hero raises a boot above Pantinkin’s terrified face. CU of Banderas Chavez’ agonized face, the temptation to violence heightened by tense music. Banderas does a heel stomp but arrests a millimeter from Pantinkin’s face. The villain imagines the boot pulping his face, in slo-mo, before he focuses on the Cat’s Paw heel. 

Malkovich turns and runs to the canal where he is carried away screaming by the powerful current. In an homage to 50’s horror films, a giant centipede gnaws at Malkovich’s legs and pulls him under. The scene ends with workers dumping their bushels of grapes on the unconscious Pantinkin. They walk out of the vineyard, arms linked singing, “yo ‘stoy con Chavez, y si señor, yo ‘stoy con Chavez, y la union….” In a slow dissolve to “tonight” we catch Banderas and the ingénue in steaming embrace, the movie’s scene of forbidden love and obligatory female nudity….

Cesar Chávez, the movie, didn’t have Banderas, Pantinkin, kung-fu scenes, torrid one-night stands, gore, and monsters. That had been my fear when I read some time back that some knuckleheaded Hollywood producer wanted to do the Cesar Chávez movie but with Antonio Banderas as Cesar Chávez. Who knows where a big box office actor would have taken a script. Ni modo because Michael Peña capably captures Chavez’ intensity and earnestness with quiet dignity. Which is expected. Sadly, I couldn’t understand the final conversation between Malkovich and Peña when Cesar pridefully says something about kicking the grower’s ass.

©michael v. sedano

The script is the problem with Cesar Chávez,  the movie Diego Luna directs and produced with a thundering herd. The movie begins with eight title animations. When the movie actually begins I’m not prepared and the first scenes whirl past in disorientation.

Fabulous casting makes this the best movie I’ve seen this year. Malkovich does his best to steal the movie from Michael Peña as Mr. Chávez, America Ferrera and Rosario Dawson as Mrs. Chávez and Ms. Huerta.

Rounding out the cast are a bunch of pretty decent actors whose characters are so eclipsed by Cesar’s leadership that I miss their names. There’s a tall, thin guy with a good smile. There’s a doubting Thomas vato who always fails to see the good instead badmouths Chavez’ speeches, but finally comes over to the union. The loyal brother nurses his fasting leader, otherwise comes into focus quietly on hand to offer sensible consejos.

The script follows along chronologically. Chavez moves to California discovers injustice. He works in an office, decides to take CSO philosophies into the fields. The movement struggles to be born. Pinoy workers organize. El Malcriado scares the heck out of prescient white growers. Pinoys with Larry Itliong strike, Chavez wins the Mexicans to solidarity with them. Bobby Kennedy comes to town to embarrass the local establishment, giving the farmworker movement a moral victory that impels the cause. Chavez goes on a hunger strike.

The big facts of el movimiento form the outline of modern history textbooks. And that outline is the problem with the script by Keir Pearson. The story strings together incredibly important and moving episodes in the historical Cesar Chávez career centering around the table grape and Gallo Wine boycotts. But, like bullet points unelaborated, the episodes come and go, one momentous event to the next.

Absent are the thought process, the philosophies, behind the decisions. Momentous events simply happen because information arrives in shorthand. Cesar’s decision to Fast evolves in four scenes. An asshole driver runs down a picketer. Aroused farmworkers drag the driver out and pummel him with fists and feet. Chavez loses his cool and leaves. Devastated, he confesses he’s failed as a leader for nonviolence, and by the way, that he’s not eaten now for two days.

This Fast goes on for 25 days, draws national sympathy for the UFW but more importantly solidifies campesino support. The gruff doubting Tomás shows up to sign the nonviolence pledge in an underexploited scene that cries out for melodramatic pathos. Instead, the actor gives us a head nod and a bit of eye contact.

The connective tissue doesn’t make it into the film. It’s an equivalent of telling instead of showing. With the big facts of the grape campaign and Chavez’ career already so well known, I wanted writer Pearson to challenge his writer’s chops, show what only film audiences can see and learn about the character of the men and women embroiled in tumultuous times. Not that something happened, why, how did these people move?

 The scenes between Chavez and his increasingly alienated first born, a son, yield some of that ethos-building here’s how insight; an apple here, an apple there, a below-par eighteen holes. This script sets up the distance between them but without close examination. The viewer gets outlines of a relationship nicely strung together like pearls on a string, an element of the whole yet each knotted separately from the others.

What was between Cesar and Dolores? goes a certain chisme thread entre la gente. Pearson’s script doesn’t get into that, but Director Luna does. Employing shot triangulation Luna implants a mild inference of an unscripted relationship. Cesar does something, the crowd reacts; quick medium shot of attractive Dolores with a smolder in her eye; cut to motherly America; back to Cesar and the event. Luna’s not subtle about it.

The campaign against Gallo is widely known. The producers make sure to stray from historical accuracy on that, creating a phony winemaker with an Italian name. It’s the only element in the story that weakens its credibility. There’s a second big gripe, the closing music. It’s a beauteous song, yearning and thoughtful, sadly not the uplifting energy born from “No nos moveran” used earlier in the film.

Grower villains are numerous. Grape, lettuce, strawberries, roses, carrots, who can remember all the names? Thus, the film creates a mash-up character that Malkovich devours, a Croatian immigrant whose defense of “foreigners” illustrates the subtext of grower resistance, less economic more misanthropy against Mexicans. The silent brown maidservant takes in all the crud, not that the assembled growers have compunctions about insulting the invisible Mexicana.

Audiences don’t know anything of this when they buy the ticket and won't miss it. Those who buy a ticket. By sales standards, Cesar Chávez is flopping. Even in limited distribution, the film isn’t filling bank accounts nor minds. Nonetheless it’s a satisfying film to go see. Cesar Chavez has all the right stuff, action, daunting fears, crises, victory, nobility.

Cesar Chávez’ story comes with urgency for its civil rights content. The film doesn’t overplay racism while laying it in full view, nor does it milk victimhood even a little. Like Bobby Kennedy tells the sheriff and district attorney, during lunch you pendejos read the Constitution. That’s what Cesar Chávez is about, puro United States values. Kids should see Cesar Chávez, all of them.

Cesar Chávez is a major success at summarizing the story of the twentieth century’s most dynamic Mexican Chicano personality, the kind of biography that people leave the auditorium elated, wiping joyous tears. It’ll take a few more months before word of mouth spreads and just as you wouldn’t be caught eating grapes during the boycott, you won’t want to admit you haven’t seen Cesar Chávez.

Click here to view Latinopia's historic footage of la peregrinación.

Writing opp, cultural appropriation, mexican film y mas

Writing Opp

 

Speculative fiction for the rest of us, is their slogan. If you're a non-güero with a spec story (fantasy, sci-fi, magic realism, or horror) you've been trying to get published, you might consider Expanded Horizons. Their mission is: "To increase representation of under-represented authors and characters in speculative fiction." Go here for guidelines.

Should Susan be displayed here?

How appropriately "Hispanic" is this?

As part of Hispanic Heritage Month, at Open Road Integrated Media, non-latina Cynthia Ward makes an interesting contribution to the cultural appropriation debate. "I've written about Hispanic characters and will continue to do so, but as a WASP/French/Irish American I can't imagine having my works about those characters being promoted as part of Hispanic Heritage Month." Go here to read the whole comment and add to it, if you choose.

Maybe gringos can't "get it right?"

Maya Gonzalez

At the website The Picture Book Academy Blogettes, children's book author Maya Gonzalez posts a very worthwhile article entitled, Polka Dots, Self-Portraits, and First Voice Multicultural Children's Books. She speaks to several questions, especially whether Anglo writers can "get it right" when they portray latino characters and story. I especially like the term, First Voices, used to described books by authors of the same culture they portray.

She writes, "At a conference I looked at a large collection of multicultural children's books. With each book I picked up I could sense if something felt original and authentic and when something felt somewhat discordant.         

"Each time that I sensed a lack of resonance, I looked more closely at the author and artist and each time I found that they did not originate from the community they were representing. It is not that their books lacked merit, by no means. But it did feel different. And each time, I got this funny feeling in my gut, it reminded me of educators, professors, experts, ethnographers, authors and artists who were telling me about me or my people or my culture. I did not feel felt. I felt studied, categorized, defined and documented by outsiders. I did not feel that I belonged. I felt separate.

"While 2012 statistics show that almost 50% of our children under age 5 are children of color, less than 10% of children’s books published each year are about children of color. The statistics are even lower (with only 4½ % of the 5000 children's books published in 2012) when it comes to First Voice children’s books that are both about AND by people of color." - Read her entire article here. 

Diversity or inclusion?

Over on Latina Lista, Cory Silverberg has a good--though convoluted--piece that take the issue of diversity in literature to a higher level:

"We need to think not only of diversity but also of inclusion. Writing inclusion then, means leaving spaces, rather than adding boxes." It's worth a read after you get through his academic style.

Cómo se dice?

If you're a latino author and you want people to pronounce your name correctly, you might do what children's book author Matt de la Peña did here. 

Spec writing opp from Omnidawn Publishing

One day I'm going to win this competition. Until then, it's open for you to try with what the editors call Fabulist Fiction. It's got an entry fee, has tough editors, but is prestigious. A fantasy or magic realism work qualifies. They use a "blind submission process" (if you're worried they'll know whether you're latino) and the deadline is Oct. 15. Go here for details.

the novella

A sweet Mexican spec film

From fantasy-enthusiast Ron Hosler comes this: "A silent film: La invención de Morel appears to be an old film, black and white with variations in lighting that were consistent with those made during the silent era, but was actually produced in 2006. The title is from a novella by Adolfo Bioy Casares, who was friends with Jorge Luis Borges. There are references to surrealism and contemporary philosophical thought.

You can watch the film here and go here to read a review of the novel. This is the IMDb page.

Hollywood misinforms us who the bad guys are

Now they think we're just a bunch of stupid Mexicans susceptible to brainwashing. Joss Whedon’s fantasy world has given us Firefly and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He's been a good guy. But now in his new TV show Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D he's joining in an attack on a legitimate environmental movement. Here's from a scoop entitled Rising Tide vs. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Rising Tide North America is under attack by the corporate super villains, Disney and ABC Studios, seeking to co-opt our name and brand for ratings and commercial air time with Whedon’s new show.

"Whedon’s new ABC television series depicts a secret NSA/Dept. of Homeland-style agency confronting a 'looming new threat' called The Rising Tide, a shadowy cyber-terror group similar to Anonymous. Their role on the show is to expose super humans like the Hulk and Thor, and secret government agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D.

"The series plays to mainstream culture’s fears about anarchists and radicals, and portrays the group as a threat to national security. Hollywood uses pop culture to turn government agents into heroes, and seekers of truth, justice and ecological sanity into evildoers.

Left, Disney's plagiarizing RTNA logo, right

"The big problem for Rising Tide North America is that Whedon’s show uses our name and a logo very similar to ours for his villains. In a most humiliating blow, at the end of the first episode, the lead Rising Tider, Skye, actually joins S.H.I.E.L.D. as an asset. So not only are we depicted as terrorists, but one of our own actually switches sides and joins the police state."

The facts: "Rising Tide is an international, all-volunteer, grassroots network of groups and individuals who organize locally, promote community-based solutions to the climate crisis and take direct action to confront the root causes of climate change."

The "root causes" might be some of the programs sponsors? Go here to read more and to inform Josh Whedon of your views on this. 

Do you know where your leaders are grazing?

doing what they do best - nada

More hilarious than the idiots we delegated to run our country--who are running our country into historical mediocrity--is an editorial by Charles Pierce called The Reign of Morons Is Here. [Wish I'd thought of that title.]

"In the year of our Lord 2010, the voters of the United States elected the worst Congress in the history of the Republic. There have been Congresses more dilatory. There have been Congresses more irresponsible, though not many of them. There have been lazier Congresses, more vicious Congresses, and Congresses less capable of seeing forests for trees. But there has never been in a single Congress--or, more precisely, in a single House of the Congress--a more lethal combination of political ambition, political stupidity, and political vainglory than exists in this one. . . . The government of the United States is, in large measure, closed this morning.

"We have elected the people sitting on hold, waiting for their moment on an evening drive-time radio talk show. . . . We have elected an ungovernable collection of snake-handlers, Bible-bangers, ignorami, bagmen and outright frauds, a collection so ungovernable that it insists the nation be ungovernable, too. We have elected people to govern us who do not believe in government.

"We did this. We looked at our great legacy of self-government and we handed ourselves over to the reign of morons."

Before the morons figure out how to herd themselves back into the barn, you've got time to read his whole editorial.

Es todo, hoy,

RudyG