For their fantastic 2020 documentary The Truffle Hunters, Michael Dweck and Gregory Kershaw embedded themselves in the forested hills of Piedmont to chronicle the dying way of life of a few Italian villagers and their dogs who hunt for pungent fungi coveted by the world’s top restaurants. Their new feature-length vérité film, Gaucho Gaucho, takes them to what might be an even more timeless place: the mountainous region of Salta in northwest Argentina, where cowboys and cowgirls still roam.
Seven strands make up this film, each one fascinating in its own right and all featuring characters who seem to relish being as far from modernity as possible. But what shines are the stunning black-and-white pictures taken by Dweck and Kershaw. Through their co-directors’ eye for composition, every frame finds visual magic and an arresting sense of drama.
This feeling of cinematic sweep is only heightened by the music used throughout this expertly crafted documentary (credit must go to music supervisor Jonathan Finegold). You could be forgiven for thinking that most of it was chosen off a jukebox in some rundown cowboy bar in Latin America, with one grandiose operatic exception. That would be “Au fond du temple saint” from Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers which plays magnificently over an early slow-mo shot of cowboys on horseback galloping across plains with dogs running behind them.
Elsewhere we hear everything from Argentinean, Cuban and Venezuelan folk songs through Argentine rockers Los Gatos’ 1967 debut single “La Balsa,” an all-time banger if ever there was one, to tracks by contemporary freak-folk artists like Devendra Banhart and Alex Ebert whose “Truth” features whistling and choral elements that could evoke Sergio Leone Westerns.
In keeping with the co-directors’ usual observational style, the subjects are never interviewed but instead caught in quiet moments of solitude: looking after their animals; looking at their land; talking with family or other members of the community.
They span a wide age range, from “Jony,” a bright-eyed 5-year-old boy who hangs on every word about gaucho tradition that his father Solano imparts, to Lelo, an 83-year-old veteran with a long white beard who spins tales of wine, women and wandering from his past and swears he would do it all again if he could.
The most flamboyant character is Santino, a singer, dancer, rodeo announcer and DJ who hosts a radio show on gaucho lore called “Our Roots.” A born performer, he climbs a tree to announce dawn breaking over the Calchaquí Valleys. Pre-teenage boys Lucas and Pancho use the summer school holidays to travel great distances on horseback, camping out under the stars. Cattle farmer Wally watches as condors circle overhead waiting for weak calves among his herd that has been thinned by prolonged drought.
The most gripping plot thread, arguably, follows 17-year-old Guada, who is desperate to prove her horse-breaking skills and compete in the macho rodeo. In one early scene she appears before a high school official in gaucho trousers, espadrilles, bandana and beret because she has refused to turn up in uniform. “I only feel comfortable in gaucho clothes,” she says firmly. We watch her grow through the film as she learns to gain a horse’s trust so that eventually it can take her weight lying across its back or standing upright; we see her first competitive events.
In one delightful sequence, Guada is trained on a low-tech version of a mechanical bull: an oil drum attached by rope to trees and yanked about by four men. And again the rodeo scenes fizz with kinetic energy hats fly off riders’ heads as they’re bucked around on the backs of horses determined to dislodge them making gorgeous use of slo-mo.
Guada’s mother worries aloud that injuries from rodeo riding could affect her ability to have children, but this heart-to-heart takes place against the background of another tender scene which sees the teenager sit opposite her father at the kitchen table while he tells her how proud he is of her and teaches her about watching and listening.
Teaching others, and passing knowledge down through generations, is an emotional motif here; particularly affecting are moments between Solano and Jony where he shows the boy how to sharpen knives or braid rope.
There’s gentle humor in raconteur Lelo’s exchanges with a local priest as he matter-of-factly contemplates death; mysticism too when he consults a village shaman about what his age will allow him physically to do next on street corners. More conventional religious solemnity also plays its part in scenes where gauchos from the Choque clan lay coca leaves and pour wine on a stone altar as they pray for rain, for the earth, their families and the dream of still being able to live this way.
Not having commentary does not mean we know less about these people it means we’re brought closer to their proud ethos and sheer happiness in life, off the grid. Gaucho Gaucho (the second part of the title refers to true practitioners) celebrates their noble tradition with a genuinely felt appreciation and visuals that would have done John Ford proud.
For More Movies Visit Putlocker.