Film Review - Sin Nombre

Here we are on the cusp of another summer movie season full of mutant super-heroes, robotic villains, bombastic computer-generated explosions, and cinema-shaking sound designs. At a time when the vast, vast majority of films made and released in this country are designed for adolescents of all ages, it is refreshing to see a thoughtful film released before the late autumn Oscar season. Sin Nombre further impresses because it explores difficult social themes through compelling imagery and storytelling rather than forcing awkward political speeches into the mouths of its characters. I must forewarn, however, that while there are a few gunshots and chase scenes, I don't recall a single explosion much less a flying super hero.

In his feature film debut, director Cary Fukunaga presents an authentic portrait of a Honduran family attempting to immigrate into the United States through Mexico, a country bleakly portrayed as overwhelmed by poverty, political corruption and gang-violence. The story centers primarily around Sayra (Paulina Gaitan), a very young woman and one of the Honduran refugees, and Willy (Edgar Flores), an equally young Mexican gang member struggling against the brutal violence forced on his life. Rarely has their been a more terrifying antagonist than Willy's ruthless gang leader with his face covered in bold, sinister-looking tattoos. It is this pitiless gang leader who inadvertantly brings Willy and Sayra together as Sayra's family is traveling through Willy's gang territory. The family's only means of travel is limited to riding atop industrial trains with dozens of other would-be immigrants. The dangers these characters endure are not limited to obvious risks of falling from a moving train or losing limbs, but they must also deal with local gangs such as Willy's robbing them of their few possessions or kidnapping them for ransom. It is through a similar scenario that Sayra and Willy suddenly find themselves relying on one another in their desperate attempts to find a less oppressive life. While there is a taunting romantic element to their relationship, the film's real focus is elsewhere.

In fact, Sin Nombre is a film that romanticizes nothing but stops short of being brutally cold-hearted. Unlike another recent film, Gomorrah, which takes a decidedly unromantic view of the devastating consequences of the Italian Mafia for everyday people, Sin Nombre allows you to spend enough time with its characters to actually care about them. They are not simply mannequins on which to drape the director's themes of poverty, desperation, and exploitation. These are fully developed characters. While they are devastatingly aware of their dire circumstances and limited options, they are never patronized. This is what makes Sin Nombre the rare film that is effective as both a work of art and political provocation.

Fukunaga undertook exhaustive research in Mexico before making this movie, which undoubtedly deserves much of the credit for the authenticity of the characters and story. The images of these sprawling groups of aspiring immigrants dangerously riding on the tops of railroad cars for weeks at a time renders their desperation both visceral and heartbreaking. Apparently Fukunaga spent over twenty-four hours on one of these train rides with two Honduran immigrants even after the warnings of lost limbs and robberies understandably led his travel companions to back out of such dangerous research. The director also spent time meeting with gang members and police, visiting jails and border towns before actually shooting the film in Mexico. Thankfully, this intensive research did not tempt the director to try to make a sprawling tale encompassing every aspect of Latin American immigration and it's relationship to the United States. That relationship is hinted at, however, as these Mexican gangs discuss their fellow members in the U.S. Another nod to the relationship takes place late in the movie in a nondescript sprawling shopping center just over the U.S. border. A Sam's Club sign (the wholesale shopping chain owned by Wal-Mart) is quickly but conspicuously placed in one shot. I don't think this was any accident, but it was certainly not drawing undue attention to itself either. It was simply a fleeting image quietly teasing at the larger implications of immigration in America.

While the immigration debate burns and thrashes in this country, we rarely discuss in any detail the abject poverty and exploitation that inspires someone to risk their life in the hopes of a minimum wage job. It is even more rare that we look at how our political policies and consumer practices are intertwined with the misery depicted in Sin Nombre. Of course, many U.S. companies (and those of other wealthy nations before them) have long exploited these countries and propped up dictators for control of their limited resources, often agricultural (hence the term, "banana republic"). The resulting violence and oppression is not only responsible for the poverty and mass emigration depicted in this film, but the warring military coups and factions that spring up in response also have a relationship to the gang violence which spreads throughout Latin America and into the U.S. But, excuse me.... I've gone too far.

That was an awkward digression; the impressive debut film by Cary Fukunaga is the matter at hand. I must admit, though, I can only hope that this director's future endeavors have the same power to inspire digression. Until then, though, we can enjoy exploding robots, alien spaceships, and the other pyrotechnic innovations of American cinema this summer. Which gives me an idea... Perhaps we can dispatch Wolverine south of the border to take down the bad guys. Or maybe he won't need to travel so far.