Biutiful

Alejandro González Iñárritu's latest Biutiful tackles difficult themes of mortality and finding peace with one's self before moving on to an afterlife. The film opens and closes with some fascinating sequences. It's just everything in between, however, that is problematic.

The film is anchored by a very humane performance given by Javier Bardem, in spite of the challenge of his character's supernatural sensibilities. His Uxbal is a family man, a business man, and an ex-husband nearing the end of his life. Bardem nails each aspect of the role with a general concern for people he feels responsible for. The audience's spirit deteriorates with his as the film labors on and we watch him inch closer to the end, where he'll be reunited with the dead he'd always been able to communicate with during his life.

If the film had managed to stay more focused on his storyline, the film could potentially have turned out a very emotionally affecting piece. But in true Iñárritu fashion, he can't help but try to dilute this storyline with other interweaving character narratives that have worked so well for his films in the past. Uxbal's brother, Tito (Eduard Fernàndez), getting ready to buy their father, has sexual flings on the side with Uxbal's bipolar ex-wife Marambra (Maricel Àlvarez) who is desperate to see more of her children. Apart from Uxbal's personal troubles, his professional affairs are in a delicate state between the Chinese manufacturers he goes to for supplies of counterfeit purses, the Senegalese immigrants who sell those purses on the streets and the police force Uxbal often bribes growing impatient of these street vendors working on illegal streets.

The subplots of the Senegalese street vendors' struggling family lives and the Chinese factory owners with a labor force of illegal immigrants don't only distract from the power of the central themes, but are indicative of a larger tone of self-seriousness the film suffers from. Several shots like that of a dead owl in the snow, a pigeon walking over a lifeless homeless man, or birds en masse flying in formation over a sunset-lit sky seem perfectly poetic on their own accord, but in context often seem out of place and trying much too hard. The revelation of the two Chinese factory owners being gay is so overt and unintentionally hilarious that it trivializes their sexuality, and the screenplay's attempt of emotional manipulation falls flat on the audience. The film often deals with the question of exploitation, whether between the factory owners and their laborers or Uxbal trying to profit from their work. The film asks, "who's exploiting who?" It would seem to me that, most of all, it's the film itself.

The film has been described as "unconventional," which will be used to explain much of the negative reaction that will come from it. Fact of the matter is that that's not what's wrong with it. I found promise in the unconventional premise, and was hoping to find an unappreciated gem in this film. And there are good points to it. The larger ensemble work is strong, sudden cuts show the spirits of the dead hanging off ceilings in a deliciously creepy fashion, the camerawork is well lit and shot. All in all, though, the film is greatly uneven. The editing, usually strong in Iñárritu's work, attracts attention to how awful it is at some points including split seconds of random shots unnecessary in setting the scene. The score comes blaring in oafishly at the most bizarre moments where you’d least expect it. Many emotional tensions set up at certain points are relieved unsatisfactorily and awkwardly, and it drags on for far too long. The film is simply a mess, and a disappointingly missed opportunity.

Grade: C