Bardo: False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths

Cinema is still capable of provoking great surprises. I had low expectations for this film. Even in other Iñarritu's works, I can see some of his "artistic arrogance", so I thought that a markedly surrealist semi-biographical work could only result in an enormous masturbatory exercise that at every corner felt superior to its spectator. It was not the case.

For several minutes I wasn't sure if I was enjoying what I was watching or not, but I was always intrigued. The concept borrows heavily from classics like Fellini 8 ½, but Iñarritu adds high doses of surrealism that demonstrate other influences. Some of these influences can come from very close, with Buñuel at the head. For you to understand what kind of surrealism this is, suffice it to say that the opening scene of the film is that of a birth in which the doctors realize that the baby does not intend to leave and then they do the reverse process of birth so that the baby comes back to where it came from. Of course, this is metaphorical and of course, there is a less comic and much more dramatic explanation for the real events, but you couldn't ask for a more out-of-the-ordinary scene that would immediately alienate anyone who likes works based solely on reality and on a well-defined and classic narrative.

These types of scenes are repeated throughout several episodes of the film - and, perhaps, the lack of connection between them is a negative aspect of the film -, but what at first seems to be just black humour through surrealist expressiveness quickly turns into what are the main themes of the film. This is mainly about finding your identity, so the themes are very personal for Iñarritu - who, incidentally, speaks of this film as something semi-biographical... - and are for many more people. When Silverio (Daniel Cacho), the main character, talks about imposter syndrome, he knows he is talking to artists. When he talks about living between two countries, wanting to feel at home in both, but not feeling at home in either of them, he speaks to the millions of emigrants around the world. When he talks about Amazon buying a Mexican state, he knows what he means about capitalism and corporatism. As he knows when he has a fascinating conversation with a colonizer - yes, from the distant past! - or when he addresses the luxury within the misery in which many live in Mexico or... when he also criticizes North American society and its lack of empathy. All this is done very smartly by Iñarritu. Everything is brutally aggressive, but everything is also done through that layer of a living dream that could make everything easier to swallow.

Still, I don't think this movie is for everyone. It is not. In a film by an artist about an artist - very much about himself - it is not surprising that the Mexican filmmaker has gone overboard here and there, whether in the length of the scenes (and to think that this was already heavily edited and cut after the festivals circuit!) or in some visual exaggerations that seem to be there just for shock effect. In any case, the positives largely outweigh the negatives, with a whole range of good technical arguments to highlight, from fantastic cinematography - brutal open shots, warm colours, a living camera - to a strong and very characteristic score that perfectly fits the tone of the film.

This is a film destined to be misunderstood as are all those who live between two worlds. Living between two countries and two cultures. Living between the real world and the imaginary (artistic). Inãrritu, at times, abuses from a certain pretentiousness in the way he uses surrealism, but in the end, he won me over through unique and original scenes and, above all, through what he has to say and how he says it.

After finishing this film, I sit in an empty theater, reflecting on what I have seen. The essence of this deeply personal message floating just under the surface of the film is complex. What should I think? Or more important, what should I feel?

I can only answer as a man who has lived over 60 years. I witnessed many "shared" moments in the film, images and memories where I look back on my life and either smile or shed a tear.

The beauty in this film lies in its "truth" which to me is the honest self reflection on a life spent. We all only have a certain amount of life to spend. No do overs. So when we all approach the waning moments of our lives, we look back on those little life pleasures, the painful moments, and the regrets we all have.

And the TRUTH of our own individual lives flashes before us all.

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"Bardo works best when it focuses on the dynamics between father, mother, and children regarding immigration and how this drastic life change impacts each member of the family nucleus. Alejandro G. Iñárritu takes advantage of all the awe-inspiring technical elements to build a story worthy of the big screen but lacks tonal consistency and narrative control.

"Historical" recreations with q.b. Surrealism only makes the runtime feel heavier, and if it wasn't for Darius Khondji's superb cinematography along with exceptional set and sound design, this film would have been in trouble.

Fortunately, there's a lot more to be enjoyed than to feel frustrated."

Rating: B.

Bardo is probably the most misunderstood film of 2022, and the most divisive. What surprises me, though, is how much critics dismissed it last year. This is Alejandro Innaritu's first film in 7 years, and he returns by reminding us just how much of a visual magician he is. This is, in my mind, the most gorgeous looking film of 2022. From the first minute, Bardo puts you in a trance. I couldn't keep my eyes off of it. Darius Khondji's work should have earned him an Oscar. Conceptually, Bardo is 8 1/2 by way of Terrence Malik, but all the same, it's Innaritu's stream of consciousness and it feels so devastatingly alive. If there is one criticism to be had, is that maybe this film shouldn't have relied on so much self-flagellation. Silverio seems to be ridiculed by everyone around him, and by the film itself. Was this a way to justify the film's existence? Did Bardo have to criticize itself so that it could be as freewheeling and experimental as it wanted to be? Because honestly, it doesn't have to. Or maybe AGI's just laid all of his thoughts, negative and positive, stark naked here, regardless of whether or not we'd understand it. You could analyze the film to kingdom come, or you could just let it wash over you. I'd rather just do the latter.

Greetings again from the darkness. Many filmmakers mine their own lives for projects, making their work personal, revealing, and sometimes invasive. It's easy to label these works as narcissistic, and by definition, that would be accurate. However, some of the finest films from our most interesting writer-directors fall into the autobiographical (or semi-autobiographical) category. Examples include Fellini's 8 ½ (1963), Cameron Crowe's ALMOST FAMOUS, and Woody Allen's STARDUST MEMORIES. This time it's Oscar winner Alejandro Inarritu looking inward. Inarritu won his Oscars for THE REVENANT (2015), and his previous nominations include BIRDMAN (2014) and BABEL (2006), and those are in addition to his other standouts: BIUTIFUL (2010), 21 GRAMS (2003), and AMORES PERROS (2000). He's joined on this project by his BIUTIFUL and BIRDMAN co-writer, Nicolas Giacobone.

The film begins with a Terrence Malick-like dream sequence of a man leaping and flying through the desert as his shadow follows below. Next, we see a woman giving birth in a hospital as her husband lends support. Only this time, the mother and doctor agree that the baby didn't want to come out, so they put him "back in." The father is Silverio (Daniel Gimenez Cacho, (BAD EDUCATION 2004, CRONOS 1993), and it's quite obvious he is representing our real-life director, Mr. Inarritu. A few years later we are informed that Silverio, a respected journalist and documentarian, has become the first Mexican selected for a prestigious award in the United States.

Griselda Siciliani plays Lucia, Silverio's wife, and she is integral to his life, yet we witness much of his life outside of their relationship. The film struck me as a metaphysical exercise as an artist turns his lens into selfie mode. It seems as though Inarritu is coming to grips ... and sharing his philosophy with us ... that emotions drive the reality of our truth. Stated another way, truth is an illusion of emotion. Our emotion skews how we view everything. Additionally, he examines (his own) midlife crisis, and the corresponding insecurities, dreams, fantasies, and doubts. And since much of this occurs in his native Mexico, spiritual and cultural aspects enter into what we see, as does the uncertainty of time as an element.

Inarritu and cinematographer Darius Khondji capture some startling imagery, including a sequence on the dance floor, a segment where bodies drop in the street, and a bag of Axolotls being held on the train. Much of the film has a surreal look and feel, but then there are moments that are more emotionally grounded - like the terrific rooftop exchange between Silverio and his friend Luis (Francisco Rubio). In contrast to that heartfelt conversation, there are the moments when Silverio seems to be heard by others without his speaking. "Move your mouth when you speak", he is told ... yet, his thoughts are conveyed.

The use of sound is masterful, and is crucial to numerous scenes. A second watch will allow me to more fully appreciate this aspect. However, at two hours and thirty-nine minutes, Inarritu likely had many thoughts and ideas, and we find ourselves wishing things were a bit tighter on the editing side. Still, while the film may be self-indulgent and ego-driven, it's also spectacular and stunning filmmaking. There are some slyly comedic touches, and the best may when this Netflix production doesn't shy away from taking a jab at its competitor, Amazon.