★★
“Moral: never try and take a pregnant woman’s gun.”
This begins, literally, with a bang. We first meet the heavily pregnant Maria (Docampo), carrying a rifle and preparing to leave her house. A man rises from the floor, and after a struggle for the gun, it goes off, and he drops back down. She hits the road in their pick-up truck, fearful of what she had done, and intending to head back to Naicó, the town where she was born. However, it’s not long before the people she meets on the road, seek to dissuade her from going there. It seems like everyone has a weird story about why her destination is not a good idea, from mysterious lights that abduct you, to a cult of blond people with possible Nazi connections.
Meanwhile, in flashback, we also see that what happened was she had been escaping from her abusive husband, Lionel (Ajaka) whose treatment of her had become too much. Despite her fears, it turns out she had not killed him, just grazed his head with the bullet. He’s now coming after her, and is not happy about her leaving with their unborn child. It’s all a very slight story-line, and feels more like an Argentinian take on that quintessentially American genre, the road movie. In particular, it’s not so much about the destination, as the journey, the people you encounter along the way, and the way in which you interact with them.
For example, Maria and Lionel both meet the same man at different points. She ends up buying him a meal in a roadside restaurant, despite being strapped for cash, and in turn, he marks the location of Naicó on her map (its absence being another element of weirdness about the place). He, on the other hand, points a gun in his face and harshly interrogates him, as soon as he realizes that his victim had met Maria. It’s an obvious contrast – though like so much about the film, I’m not very sure what point Romero is attempting to make. Even at 75 minutes long, it all feels quite impenetrable, not least due to the lack of resolution. Oh, the Maria/Lionel situation is resolved. It’s just everything else that’s left open to your own interpretation.
The movie includes narration, apparently in hindsight, by her then unborn son, though again: I’m uncertain what is the point of lines like “This story somehow resembles a hunting.” Well, yes? There’s no doubt Maria is certainly attached to her weapon, even if most people she meets, stop seeing her as a threat after they recognize her condition. The film is at its (rather underwhelming) best when she is interacting with others. Her family seems well-known and her late father, who died with her mother in murky circumstances, was the former mayor of Naicó; the resulting dialogue has a relaxed and conversational approach that’s easy to listen to. But once the end credits rolled, I was left largely unsure about the purpose of the whole endeavour.
Dir: Alberto Romero
Star: Guadalupe Docampo, Alberto Ajaka, Héctor Bordoni. Mario Alarcón
a.k.a. Hell and Back