‘Undertow’ Provides Poignant Metaphor For Closeted Life

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Rating: 3.5/5.0

CHICAGO – “Undertow” is a title that has been used so often by so many different filmmakers that it now threatens to submerge a picture’s individuality. Fortunately, first-time writer/director Juan Fuentes-León’s Peruvian drama (originally titled “Contracorriente”) has already proven to be a film utterly incapable of drifting into obscurity.

Since its debut in 2009, the film has garnered numerous accolades at festivals, including the World Cinema Dramatic Audience Award at Sundance, as well as the Audience Award at last year’s Chicago Latino Film Festival. Though it was ultimately snubbed by the Oscars, Fuentes-León’s small-scale gem has garnered an international array of admirers for its bold yet tender exploration of subject matter still deemed controversial in many parts of the world.
 
The strength of this picture lies in its subtlety. Mauricio Vidal’s camera often remains stationary, viewing the action with a straightforward gaze even as the story delves headfirst into magical realism. With the merest addition of excess, the film may have become a one-joke comedy, or even worse, a laughable supernatural romance. Perhaps this script couldn’t have been made with a straight face in America. It’s too earnest a fable to satisfy the irony-laden minds of most Hollywood filmmakers. In some ways, “Undertow” feels like a throwback to the Sirkian melodramas of yesteryear, particularly Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s 1974 masterpiece, “Ali: Fear Eats the Soul.” Though Fuentes-León’s film isn’t in the same league as “Ali,” it does share certain elements—such as its gift for quiet observation, poetic lensing and heartbreakingly authentic performances. Like Sirk and Fassbinder, Fuentes-León empathizes with couples whose love for one another causes them to be ostracized by their intolerant communities (the working title for this film could’ve easily been “All That Heaven Allows”). Yet “Undertow” effectively illustrates that self-hatred provides the fuel for discrimination, even more so than the hatred of others.

Cristian Mercado and Tatiana Astengo star in Juan Fuentes-León’s Undertow.
Photo credit: Wolfe Releasing

In the isolated fishing community of Cabo Blanco, a secret love affair is brewing behind the brick walls of houses and within the shadows of caves. Local fisherman Miguel (Cristian Mercado) has fallen hopelessly in love with Santiago (Manolo Cardona), a visiting artist whose open sexuality has relegated him to the status of societal recluse. Miguel’s cheerfully content smile never fades from his face as he drifts from a jubilant ultrasound exam with his pregnant wife, Mariela (Tatiana Astengo), to a passionate embrace with his male mistress. It soon becomes clear that Santiago is sticking around this village solely because of Miguel, who’s in such a severe state of denial that his affair almost appears to be taking place on a separate plane of existence. The nature of their closeted relationship turns out to be prophetic in the film’s second act, when Santiago turns up unexpected at Miguel’s house, and is amazed when Mariela walks right past him, as if he were a…

Yes, it turns out Miguel’s specter of a boyfriend has become a specter of a quite literal kind. After a sudden drowning in the undertow, Santiago’s spirit remains trapped on earth, unseen by everyone except his boyfriend. According to local superstition, Miguel must find Santiago’s body and “offer it” publicly in order for his soul to move on to the next world. It’s striking how the “unfinished business” in this spiritual dilemma applies to the living rather than dead. Statues of the Virgin Mary are repeatedly seen hovering on the wall as Miguel recites a scripture passage that appears to be endorsing suicide: “if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off.” Miguel’s sin is not his orientation, but his dishonesty to everyone including himself. Fuentes-León appears to be implying that it’s his main character’s cowardice that makes him something less than a man. Even when Miguel discovers the body early in his search, he chooses to look the other way, opting for a life of love without consequence or honesty. There’s a chilling resonance to sequences in which Miguel and Santiago walk hand in hand down a crowded street. Since their togetherness remains entirely dependent on the invisibility of their relationship, the image impeccably symbolizes the countless lovers reduced to functioning like ghosts in each other’s lives.

Juan Fuentes-León’s Undertow was released April 1 at the Music Box.
Photo credit: Wolfe Releasing

This is a beautiful film, though a few factors hold it back from achieving Oscar-worthy greatness. Moment to moment, the story is a touch too predictable, with plot twists ranging from the obvious to the remarkably convenient. An alternately flirtatious, mischievous and remorseful girl in the village functions as little more than a head-scratching plot device. Though the cinematography is gorgeous, it does occasionally suffer from the film’s low budget, particularly when the underwater footage is obscured by a sizable smudge on the lens.

What truly makes the film worth seeing are the three wonderful principle actors, who bring credible humanity to characters that could’ve fallen into the trap of stereotypes. Mercado’s performance deepens as the film progresses, since Miguel’s journey is one of transformative self-acceptance. It’s quite moving to see Miguel’s eyes finally acknowledge the contradictions he had been ignoring for so long. Astengo is equally effective as the shell-shocked wife whose entire foundation is upheaved precisely at the moment when she’s at her most emotionally vulnerable. Cardona’s role is perhaps the most thankless, though he makes the most of his piercing stare, which cuts straight through the layers of B.S. vigorously separating Miguel’s heart from the outside world. The ever-present noise of waves crashing upon the coastline reverberates in the background, reminding us that time continues to march on as the characters remain frozen in the past.

By MATT FAGERHOLM Staff Writer HollywoodChicago.com matt@hollywoodchicago.com