A man and his 12 year old son from the outskirts of Caracas have to go on the lam after the son stabs a kid from another family in the slums, it’s possible they’ll come seeking revenge. Over just a couple of days, Gustavo Rondon Cordova working with a compact 82 minute running time follows this child as he gets to know his father better, a single parent who holds down several jobs and does some illicit hustling on the side so he can put food on the table for his boy.
Cordova and his actors speak volumes through silence. Though neither Pedro (powerful newcomer Reggie Reyes) nor Andres (Giovanni Garcia), in his mid-30s, is much of a talker, each understands exactly what’s expected of him in this situation. In fact, they’re more alike than either would like to admit two strong-willed individuals who are used to doing things their own way.
But while Andres knows how best to navigate these mean downtown streets where he works renovating bourgeois homes during the day Pedro has spent most of his life out on those dangerous slum fringes. Introduced to responsibility for perhaps the first time ever, he starts imagining that his dad should be able to fix all sorts of things.
As quick on its feet as its characters (energetic rather than melodramatic or inward-looking), “La familia” is a promising debut that suggests not only that writer-director Cordova is a talent worth watching, but also that Venezuela may be generating an entire filmmaking generation inspired by the hard-knock lives of its masses after last year’s Golden Lion win for Lorenzo Vigas’ “From Afar.” That film tracked an older gay man involved with younger toughs from one end of town to another, here we follow two generations darting through overlapping parts of downtown.
In the opening moments alone, Pedro runs with a pack of loud 12 year olds who curse, play fight, talk about drugs and sex as if they were experts (maybe some are) and brandish weapons or at least toy guns made out of wood and spray painted black. Cordova doesn’t judge the kids or their environment, but merely observes: These children grow up fast in rough neighborhoods where adults have failed them. They mimic grown-up behavior in hopes of being taken seriously, yet remain too naive to understand how the world actually works.
From scene to scene Cordova and his cinematographer, Luis Armando Arteaga, peer at characters’ faces and behaviors through a loose, handheld smudge. Pedro tells his dad he lets people walk all over him, then doesn’t seem to notice when the old man deals with having his tasks and deadline redefined so that he can get a pay raise. But as they spend days together and are forced to keep spending time together Pedro accompanies his father as a waiter on another job in the evening, at a fancy party they learn each other better. In the new home they’re renovating there’s no direct indication that Pedro has never moved in these circles or been in these parts of town; there are small signs that suggest he’s a fish out of water, excited by what’s around him but increasingly desperate to go back where he came from.
The director (who also wrote) keeps everything resolutely present tense, which gives La familia urgency but also means there’s almost no backstory for any of the characters. As a single parent Andres must have left Pedro to his own devices often while out making money or looking for jobs; it seems like maybe Pedro usually crashed with some friends in the ‘hood. The film is relatively light on plotlines, but later on this seemingly innocuous bit will play an instrumental part. Cordova sets up Pedro’s final fall from innocence with a narrative simplicity that belies its emotional impact.
This kind of movie lives or dies by its performances, and Garcia (who starred in El Amparo, edited by Cordova) and non-pro Reyes both understated but totally believable make sure theirs is one hundred percent authentic. Reyes radiates the kind of cockiness/attitude combo that shields an inner vulnerability tough times taught him not to show, while Garcia is good-hearted but realistic enough to know Caracas isn’t easy for someone like him or his son. Their growing complicity is lovely, a silent beat after an unexpected dip in a swimming pool being especially moving. But the film’s full of little moments like that, where the often pedestrian dialogue bows to the reality.
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