Monthly Archives: July 2017

Sobre la identidad en Touch of Evil, de Orson Welles

La pregunta por la identidad ha estado presente desde el principio de nuestro curso ¿Quién lleva la máscara? ¿Quién está fingiendo: Diego Vega, Zorro, Francois Merlin, Bob Sinclar? En el caso del Zorro, hablábamos de 3 identidades insertas en una misma persona: Zorro, el de capa y antifaz; Diego Vega: ese hombre lacónico y adinerado, con propensión a la pereza; y Douglas Fairbanks: el actor que los encarnó a ambos, y que fue una de las primeras estrellas de cine de Hollywood. Multiplicidades narrativas que tergiversan los límites entre lo real y lo fantástico, y que enriquecen en gran medida el análisis de estos productos culturales.

“Touch of evil”, claro, no escapa a la pregunta por la identidad. Estamos en una zona de frontera, en donde los flujos son constantes e intercambiables, y las definiciones estáticas o anquilosadas parecen no compatibles con el dinamismo mismo que la película ofrece. El objetivo final del filme, podríamos decir, es el de desenmascarar; revelar la verdadera identidad de Hank Quinlan, descubriéndolo como un policía corrupto que implicaba falsamente a los presuntos responsables de crímenes. Y detrás de esta trama se descubren también sus miserias personales, con una alcoholemia latente que aflora nuevamente con las sindicaciones de Vargas, y la tristeza cotidiana en el recuerdo de su esposa asesinada. Un nuevo rostro que se suma al que en principio nos fue ofrecido: el de un policía honesto al que las intuiciones de su pierna nunca le fallaban.

Pero la película no se agota, ni mucho menos, en las múltiples identidades de Quinlan, quien además es Orson Welles, director y guinista del filme. Las multiplicidades se presentan constantemente, intersectándose y descomponiéndose: el matrimonio entre un mexicano y una americana, y sus tránsitos de México a los Estados Unidos y luego de vuelta a México; los avatares de la familia Grandi, que aparentan ser simples comerciantes pero que en realidad manejan negocios turbios, y asentados en México tienen moteles en los Estados Unidos (incluso uno de los sobrinos del Tío Joe, quien en principio aparenta no saber inglés, luego lo habla fluidamente cuando asume el papel de encargado del Motel); o la imagen misma del primer encargado nocturno del Motel (Dennis Weaver), que se abre como una incógnita durante toda la película: una figura enigmática, oscura, inclasificable, a quien no logramos ver nítidamente más allá de sus evidentes discapacidades.

Quizás, quien mejor representa este papel de la apariencia en la película, es el detective Miguel Vargas. En él confluyen múltiples narrativas del film: es Miguel, pero también es hasta cierto punto Mike; es blanco, pues detrás está Charlton Heston, pero también es moreno, pues ha sido pintado para interpretar el rol; es mexicano, de forma evidente, pero no podemos negar que en otro nivel también es americano; alega también que Hank Quinlan ha recurrido a pruebas falsas para sindicar a presuntos culpables de delitos, pero él también utiliza artimañas a la hora de “desenmascarar” a Quinlan, grabando su voz en secreto mientras lo persigue por el campo petrolero; es esposo huído en su luna de miel para poder ser detective, y jugar así con los dos rostros que le permitan comprobar que es un buen mexicano: “Vargas speaks”, dice Pease, “as a representative of the Mexican state eager to divert international attention away from evidence of its inability to regulate its borders. But he also acts as a husband intent on disproving his wife’s belief that Mexico is unable to protect its citizenry”.

Como Zorro, Diego Vega y Douglas Fairbanks, Miguel Vargas (Mike) también es muchos. Es esposo (mal esposo quizás), detective, abogado, representante del estado mexicano, investigador, mexicano americanizado en el nivel de la ficción: Vargas, americano mexicanizado en el nivel de la realidad: Heston. Racial y socialmente es un héroe para algunos, pero sin lugar a dudas es también un antihéroe para otros…

Las preguntas nuevamente asoman: ¿quién está fingiendo?, ¿quién es el verdadero?

John Parker Touch of Evil

John Parker, July 23

Touch of Evil (1958). Orson Welles’ film noir about a border town was well cast and well set. I’m fine with Charlton Heston as Miguel Vargas with a bad accent and little knowledge of Mexican culture; he is a respected narcotics investigator who is treated with great esteem when he arrives to help the local officials at the crime scene. This is heightened when a Grandi family member tries to throw acid on him. He’s not your typical Mexican, not like real Mexican actors in the film, anyway, but in my mind he doesn’t have to be. His pairing with the (yet another) blond American that gives him yet more prestige, perhaps an important feature that Welles is playing on here. Is Welles saying that “Mexicans are just like us?” The other actors are all convincing in their roles as Mexicans, including Marlene Dietrich. The Americans who live on the border, such as Welles’ Hank Quinlan and his sidekick best friend, have family, friends, business associates, drinking buddies, brothel connections. The girl Nayid mentioned thought she heard ticking in her head was a sex trade worker hooked up with an American businessman. Both will be killed at the beginning of the film on the American side of the border, thus diminishing somewhat the threat of an international incidence. The bomb, of course, was planted in the convertible on the Mexican side. The brothel Madame, Sza Sza Gabor, and several Mexican gang members, were definitely not Latino, but again, saying their minimal lines, they didn’t need to be for the casting to be convincing.

I loved the setting. An imaginary border town, “Los Robles,” perhaps a neutral name to appease Americans, kind of like “Álamo,” like boring street names in Vancouver. Here, two cultures interact daily and exist harmoniously. Americans will pursue cheap labour south of the border and Mexicans will seek employment opportunities in the United States. The border town has brothels and sleazy hotels, drug addicts and dealers, crime families. Welles’ Hank Quinlan is in his niche. He is a loser and, as we discover, evil. He knows the ins and outs of the town so well that he is able to rely on hunches to ease his workload. He therefore plants evidence in support of his hunches; this continues his slippery slope in lawlessness that includes kidnapping and murder. He tries to use Mexicans as accomplices in his scheme to discredit Vargas and it is obvious he despises them. He is a parasite; he exploits Mexicans and is ultimately part of the legal structure discriminating against them. This is Welles’ ultimate aim.

John Parker Touch of Evil

John Parker, July 23

Touch of Evil (1958). Orson Welles’ film noir about a border town was well cast and well set. I’m fine with Charlton Heston as Miguel Vargas with a bad accent and little knowledge of Mexican culture; he is a respected narcotics investigator who is treated with great esteem when he arrives to help the local officials at the crime scene. This is heightened when a Grandi family member tries to throw acid on him. He’s not your typical Mexican, not like real Mexican actors in the film, anyway, but in my mind he doesn’t have to be. His pairing with the (yet another) blond American that gives him yet more prestige, perhaps an important feature that Welles is playing on here. Is Welles saying that “Mexicans are just like us?” The other actors are all convincing in their roles as Mexicans, including Marlene Dietrich. The Americans who live on the border, such as Welles’ Hank Quinlan and his sidekick best friend, have family, friends, business associates, drinking buddies, brothel connections. The girl Nayid mentioned thought she heard ticking in her head was a sex trade worker hooked up with an American businessman. Both will be killed at the beginning of the film on the American side of the border, thus diminishing somewhat the threat of an international incidence. The bomb, of course, was planted in the convertible on the Mexican side. The brothel Madame, Sza Sza Gabor, and several Mexican gang members, were definitely not Latino, but again, saying their minimal lines, they didn’t need to be for the casting to be convincing.

I loved the setting. An imaginary border town, “Los Robles,” perhaps a neutral name to appease Americans, kind of like “Álamo,” like boring street names in Vancouver. Here, two cultures interact daily and exist harmoniously. Americans will pursue cheap labour south of the border and Mexicans will seek employment opportunities in the United States. The border town has brothels and sleazy hotels, drug addicts and dealers, crime families. Welles’ Hank Quinlan is in his niche. He is a loser and, as we discover, evil. He knows the ins and outs of the town so well that he is able to rely on hunches to ease his workload. He therefore plants evidence in support of his hunches; this continues his slippery slope in lawlessness that includes kidnapping and murder. He tries to use Mexicans as accomplices in his scheme to discredit Vargas and it is obvious he despises them. He is a parasite; he exploits Mexicans and is ultimately part of the legal structure discriminating against them. This is Welles’ ultimate aim.

Touch of Evil: Justice and the Law across the Mexican border

Touch of Evil (1958), acted and directed by Orson Welles, is a movie about violence, corruption and murder in the Mexican border town of Los Robles. The movie begins with the activation of a time-bomb mechanism. The explosion of this bomb will go on to unleash a series of events which will affect all the characters in the movie (main and small ones) and lead them to pain, tragedy, and death. The story-line is well-intertwined given that the bomb has a direct link to an American builder contractor and his girlfriend who are killed in the explosion.  This is to say that, the main characters in Touch of Evil, Mike Vargas (the Mexican detective) and Susan Vargas (Vargas’ wife), have to stop their honeymoon in the U.S- Mexico border town of Los Robles, when the explosion occurs. Mike Vargas and Susan Vargas will face the giant American Police captain Hank Quinlan who is brought to life by Orson Welles himself.

There are many excellent movie sequences in Touch of Evil, but I will be referring only to three segments of the film which stayed with me and which I think are important to explore. The first scene I want to analyze is the one after the car explodes at the crossing over the Mexican border. The second scene is the interrogation of Sanchez. Thirdly, the incriminating scene between Vargas, Menzies and Hank.

First, during the first minutes of the movie, the viewer gets to see the cross-border town of Los Robles and the security border check points on each side. Vargas, a Mexican police investigator, and his American wife Susan, cross the border by foot to the U.S’ side. Hence, the movie depicts a sort of free or fluid accessibility across the border in where people from both countries can come and go with no problem. The only question asked is: Are you American? For which Susan answers yes and this allows her and her husband to cross over the check-point and to enter U.S.A’s soil without showing a passport. Nevertheless, later in the same scene, the viewer can see how the American police enter Mexico illegally. This reference is important because it is not just the Mexicans who crossed illegally here but the Americans do it as well.

One of the lines which resonated with me came from the woman who drives with the contractor by car and are about to die, “I got this ticking noise in my head.” The ticking noise to which she is referring, as all the audience knows, is the time-bomb itself which is about to explode in the car. However, she is quickly dismiss by the border American officers with a simple, yes! And never gets around to ask what’s really happening. I find this scene interesting because the ticking bomb in her head counts the remaining time she and her boyfriend have left. Additionally, right after it, Susan appears talking with Mike saying, “You realize this is the first time we’ve been together in my country?” Mike replies back saying, “Do you realize I’ve not kissed you in an hour?” For this reason, I like the immediacy given to time in both lines marking the end for some and the beginning of suffering for others, as well as, their final triumph.

Second, the characterization of both, Mike Vargas and Susan Vargas, is exemplary of good people. Mike, a Mexican Narcotics officer main mission is to bring down the Grandi family and their illegal drug business. For her part Susan, a typical American-wife, follows her husband’s orders and suggestions to the letter. In a sense, their commitment to their marriage is demonstrated on screen. This is not to mention their undeniable love for each other (a romantic theme) and their resilience to remain good in the midst of evil which allows them to remain together in the end.

For instance, when Susan is waiting for her husband at the motel, she faces off the gang of Grandi’s boys. These men and women thugs and drug addicts enter Susan’s room in order to scare her with the idea of rape, just as uncle shorty ordered it. But, at that moment, it seems like Susan is about to be raped by these three criminals and even one of the women says “I want to watch.” It is not until the end, when these same women are seen talking with ‘uncle shorty’, when the audience knows that Grandi only wanted to scared Susan, so as to incriminate Vargas’ wife for drug possession and murder. One way or another, we as the audience are not sure if Susan was raped or not and maybe this element in the movie is another shade of evil which spills over the good characters of Susan and Vargas to highlight their goodness.

The final scene in which Menzies teams up with Mike Vargas to get Hank’s incriminating confession on tape, is of great importance. For once, this long sequence highlights the brilliant writing skills of Welles. The creativity, fluidity and suspense of the lines spoken by Hank are stellar and build up to the dramatic ending of the movie. It also takes the viewer through a historic timeline given that Hank sees at the beginning of this shot two of his most important friends, Pete and Tana. Hank asks Tana to read him the tarot for which Tana tells him that he has “no future” as a way to foreshadow his ending. Later, when Hanks leaves Tana’s house, Hank accuses Pete of becoming an idealist for partnering up with Mike Vargas. It is important to mention that, Mike and Pete’s partnership contrasts directly with that of Hank and Shorty’s. The first partnership is good and lawful one while that one of Hanks and Shorty is shady, illicit, and evil.

What’s more, the dialogue of Hank is great because he also contemplates what’s around him while being drunk and on his way to death. Hanks realized that the Mexican oil fields are “pumping money” and questions the financial situation of his own life. “Don’t you think I could have been rich? A cop in my position?” With these questions, Hanks shows his immorality, contempt for his profession and, more importantly, his greed for money. Hence, when he dies at the hand of his best friend, Pete, there is a clear justification for this action and the audience don’t feel so bad given his evilness of character.

 

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) Screening July-18

First of all, it was quite strange to me that this 1948 movie is black-n-white, because Down Argentine Way in 1940 already has the technology of a colored movie, but the lack of coloring is not affecting the impact of this motion picture, and I am so glad that we finally get “down” to a more realistic life-style. All the four movies we saw before are somehow fantasy, like bubbles in the sky that we common people can never touch, all thouse celebrities and wonderful dancing and singing, and horse show….

    This is a really really great piece of work, the tension and those hints that appeared at the beginning which all have a reason afterwards, like the lottery Dobby bought, and the gold-digging history Howard was telling the first time Dobby and Curtin saw him. However, it was not very convincing for me the brusque change of Dobby in the second part. For me, I see no reason he changes so much from one extreme to another. At the beginning he begs for money and he feels fine about it. He is not very picky at the kind of work he is offered, and when he and Curtin know that the contractor is a liar, and they find him, beat him and get their salary back, Dobby has the chance to take all the money the contractor has in the wallet, but instead, he doesn’t even think about taking one more peso than what’s entitled to him. So it’s really difficult to imagine that such a decent man will change so much after he finds the gold, especially he even tries to kill Curtin, who has saved him before.  Of course this is the main idea about this novel, that Don Dinero es el más poderoso, but at least from the movie, I don´t think his change is well explained.

    This movie is already after the Good Neighbour Era, and we see a totally different Mexico. However, as I said before, it´s a more realistic world, because first of all, we finally see local Mexican speaking Spanish, and Howard translates for the Anglo. So what´s different is not hidden anymore. We also see some similarity as the Federales do hunt down the bandits like US police chasing for bad guys. So Mexico is not a lawless place. Anglo and Latin do have differences and similarities. Pretending that in this world only exists that latter wouldn’t make our planet better, just like the Good Neighbour Policy, which couldn’t last long.

The Indian tribe that Howard lives with in the end is a very good example. They have their own norms, like they consider it polite to smoke other people’s tabacco, and they have to thank Howard for bringing back the boy’s life, and they would even use force to keep Howard with them. These may seem wierd at first, but in the very essence, this is what every people would do. People offer hospitality by giving away what they have, like food or place to sleep for even strangers in old times, and we do thank those who have helped us, just that each and every one of us do it differently. So being same and different is actually the same thing.

Back to the main theme of the movie/novel, which is long-lasting since, maybe, the time when human people first invented MONEY, it’s like a curse for me, that we think we humans are clever enough to create this and that, but in the end, we discover that these creations become our masters. We human beings are the biggest enemy of our own kind (and of course, of all other species). There are no other animals or diseases that have killed more human people than human people ourselves. Yet we still are at guard toward wild animals, and considering them as a threat when they come to “our” land, the land that we took from them long time ago. I recently read a news saying that somewhere in Canada people had to shoot dead a bear because it came to the city and became a threat to the people. And I was so angry, because you could have just used an anaesthetic rifle instead. Maybe it was an urgent situation, I don’t know.  It’s just so difficult to understand the logic these days, that since every human has their human rights, even the most cold-blooded serial killers, who has deprived other people’s human right, they can live in a well equipped prison cell, enjoying their life sentence. They will have a doctor to attend when they are sick, and they get fed everyday. Yet those animals…. I think I am a little carried away….

The movies shows that paradise/happiness is actually not built by money. Curtin says the happiest time of his life was when he worked in a orchard; and Howard finally decides to stay with the Indians in Mexico and he is treated like a god and where he lives is a paradise, because he used his knowledge and saved the drowned Indian boy. It’s really a interesting question to think about, that since we created the concept of money, why and how come that people think that money is the thing that could make them happy? It’s easy to prove it negative, because it’s impossible to think that before the creation of money, people were never happy.

So happiness and money is not necessarily related, nor is Latin America and money, so by crossing the border south what could people get?

 

Week 4 – The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre like the films we have previously watched in class set in a latin american country, specifically, in the City of Mexico. The camera makes it very clear in presenting this with a zommed in shot at the beggining of the film that focuses on what looks like a newspaper clipping that reads “México, DF”. The main characters in the film however are Americans. The first character we meet is Dobbs who seems to be roaming around Mexico alone with no money, literally walking around begging for money. Although he is selective in who he asks for help, we never see him ask any locals. There’s a part in the film where Dobbs goes up to a man and says “…help a fellow American…”, the man seems angry telling him that he has asked him before and that this will be the last time he helps him.

Dobbs ends up getting a job but himself and Curtin never actually get paid. They keep asking their boss when they will recieve their work’s pay but they never get a definite answer. Instead they are told, “What can you do with money out here anyways? Except gamble and loose it”. Up to this point in the film I questioned why Dobbs was even in Mexico, why not go back home to America and find a stable job to support his life financially since his only desire and struggle so far seemed to be money.

Indeed, money was the central theme of this film that established the conflict between Dobbs and the other characters and also between Hobbs himself. We can see that money is the build up for the conflict early on in the film when Dobbs, Curtin, and Howard are in El Dormitorio Negro. Howard specifically says, “…I know what gold does to men’s souls…when the piles of gold start to grow that’s when the trouble starts…” This conversation to me serves as a warning for the downfall that is about to happen, the downfall is then established within the shake of hands between Dobbs and Curtin when they agree that they are going to join Howard to search for gold. In this scene the camera makes sure to show the gesture of both men establishing their agreement by the shaking hands, however, the camera seems to focus more on Howard’s facial reaction. He seems to have somewhat of a sly look on his face as if he knows that somethng bad is about to happen. Dobbs has a paranoia throughout the film that he believes that Curtin and Howard are plotting against him to take his share of the gold. It seems to frustrate him so much that he gets into arguements with both throughout the film. At one point Curtin gives him a portion of his gold to prove that he isn’t trying to take anything from him but it seems to just add wood to the fire because Dobbs throws the gold into the fire and responds with “I just don’t like being called a hog”. Dobbs’ paranoia progresses near the end of the film when he and Curtin are on their way to Tampico. His paranoia builds up so much that he ends up shoting Curtin believing that he his left dead. After he shoots him however he’s talking to himself and we see that through all his selfishness he does seem to have a conscious for what he has done.

Something interesting that stuck with me (but perhaps isn’t signifcant) is when Howard tells both the men, “Water is precious, sometimes more precious than gold” as they are starting their journey. I found this interesting because when Hobbs is alone before he gets surrounded by the banditos we see him tired, out of breath almost as if he is about to faint but he sees a lake and falls head first right into it. To me it showed that he somewhat killed himself for gold when it wouldn’t be able to buy him life but that the water that he was so desperate for at this very moment was his saving grace, at least momentarily.

“Lo que hace el oro a las almas”. El tesoro de la Sierra Madre.

El 26 de septiembre de 1560 empieza una de las aventuras más notables que se hayan dado en territorio americano. Ese día, varios cientos de españoles, esclavos africanos y esclavos indios, al mando del conquistador Pedro de Ursúa, comienzan a navegar por el río Marañón, en la porción amazónica del actual Perú, con rumbo fijo hacia el mítico Dorado: una ciudad de oro e innumerables tesoros, escondida en lo más profundo de la selva. La leyenda habla de un Cacique (jefe indígena) que, impregnado en polvo dorado, colma su barco de objetos valiosos y en la mitad de una laguna mágica se zambulle, no sin antes ofrendar todos estos objetos a sus dioses. Los españoles, claro, enarbolando las banderas de Dios y del Rey (la cruz y la espada) tomaban posesión legítima (decían ellos) de las tierras que conquistaban a sangre y fuego, procediendo, después del sometimiento aborigen, a repartirse el botín.

Pues bien, ese afán de riqueza (saqueo) guiaba la expedición de Ursúa. Al final, sin embargo, lo que encontraron fue desolación y muerte. Lope de Aguirre, uno de los “capitanes” de Ursúa en esta travesía, se subleva y asesina a su jefe, así como también mata, poco tiempo después, al sucesor de éste: Fernando de Guzmán. Lo interesante de esta historia, ahora bien, es que Lope de Aguirre proclama un autogobierno en tierras americanas: se declara en guerra con el imperio español y no reconoce la soberanía de Felipe II sobre las conquistas realizadas. El caso de Lope es peculiar pues se sale del molde de los demás conquistadores: Lope desconoce la obediencia y el tributo al imperio, y se proclama príncipe americano con derechos absolutos sobre estas tierras. “Lope el loco”, lo llamaban sus soldados. Por supuesto, su expedición fracasa y finalmente muere asesinado el 26 de octubre de 1561.

El contexto de Ursúa, Aguirre y “El Dorado” se esconde (de múltiples maneras) en la película “The treasure of the Sierra Madre”. Y la película, al igual que el episodio relatado, recrea representaciones tradicionales de la América hispánica, junto con aspectos subversivos que desafían precisamente estos estereotipos. Así, por un lado, las referencias a la naturaleza agreste o al clima feraz, barbárico, incivilizado, permanecen en la película. Permanecen también, entre otros asuntos, los anhelos de riqueza por parte de extranjeros, en este caso estadounidenses, que ven en las inexploradas sierras mexicanas un lugar pleno de oportunidades, de minas para ser encontradas, de materias primas. El saqueo colonial se presenta en forma de continuidad, de la cual Howard es plenamente consciente: “Come round down to it we are bandits of a kind. What right have we got to go looting their mountain anyway? About as much right as the foreign companies that take their oil without paying for it… and their silver and their copper”.

Lo interesante, sin embargo, es que así como encontramos continuidades en la representación tradicional de la América hispánica, también encontramos rupturas. Dobbs, es claro, se erige como un personaje subversivo. La película no se puede encasillar como un Western, de acuerdo con Neil Campbell, sino como un Postwestern; y Dobbs tiene mucho que ver con este distanciamiento del género. La trayectoria de Dobbs nos habla de un vagabundo americano en Tampico a quien le sonríe la fortuna, para luego caer víctima de sus pasiones en un abismo de avaricia y muerte. Paranoico e inestable, como Aguirre en el pasado, la promesa de ese Dorado ha desquiciado al pobre de Dobbs, queriendo robar y asesinar a sus compañeros de expedición, y perdiéndose finalmente en la “jungla” mexicana, para caer asesinado a manos de “Sombrero de Oro”, otro bandido como él. No hay historias heroicas en el panorama. Solo el descenso a los infiernos de una mente turbada y enceguecida por el brillo del metal. Dobbs se quema en el fuego de sus ambiciones y se pierde en el “paraíso americano”. Su historia necesitaba ser contada, dice Campbell, en un momento en el que el Western tradicional dominaba la escena. Así, pasa a la posteridad como un personaje singular, subversivo, salido del molde tradicional, a la manera de Lope de Aguirre; un reflejo, finalmente, de las pasiones humanas más profundas.

Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

Jon, at the very beginning you said that all these movies are not as simple as they may appear. Now, I couldn’t agree more. I found this movie a retrospective and philosophical consideration about human nature.

After ten minutes I’ve realized I had already seen this movie, in the Italian version, as my grandfather was a huge fan of Western movies; I was a child when I saw it for the first time, so I didn’t remember all the movie. It was nice got to see it again.

I thought it would be a western movie. But the more the plot went on, the more I was confused: it indeed has some classic western features, like the banditry, the saloon, the barber shop, the hunting for gold. But, at the same time it has something new, tough. Like the shooting. This, and how the camera moves around the setting, reminds me of Rossellini’s technique to focus primary on “empty, weird and not common spaces”. As well, the soundtrack plays a crucial role, letting the audience understand better scenes changes and underlines what’s important for the audience to pay attention and get.

What caught my attention was the restlessness of the US characters: I had the impression that they were living their lives simply waiting for the next catastrophe to happen. The chat between Dobbs, Curtin and Howard at night clearly shows how human nature aims just to have more and more and to never be satisfied. This is also visible when he accepts the job just upon the promise of being paid, but the money keeps be delayed. Finally, they get their money using violence. The movie is furthermore a reflection on human nature. The money is a quite important element in the plot of this movie: strictly related to the role of money is the frivolousness and vulnerability of human beings: the more they have, the more they want. Also, before starting collecting the gold, Dobbs is willing to put his money for Curtin, but after he prefers to divide the gold according to everyone’s part. This shows how money can, and unfortunately sometimes does, change human relationships, undermining friendships and making people crazy. This sufferance, characteristic of human beings, is a totally new element, as the Us characters we have seen so far were absolutely enjoying their life style.
Curtin arrives at the village and he meets Cody, who claims that Mexican have only one good quality: they know how to make justice and how to make it fast. I think that there is a vicious circle inside the movie itself: keeping in mind that in the 20s Mexico was fighting the Revolution and that the federales were at charge, the three gold prospectors were risking their life because of the banditos’ hand and the banditos because of the federales. The Mexicans we met are, first, banditos who tried to fool the three gold prospectors and, then, a man with a sick son. Howard cures the son and he is rewarded by the Mexican, living an amazing life, eating, resting and enjoying life as its most. It caught my attention that the female Mexican characters that appear don’t talk. Also, when Dobbs is attacked by the banditos, two of them fight for his shoes: I think that this is a resemblance between North American and Mexican; after all, they are not so different: once they have, they want more.

It can’t be denied the importance of thegold hunting south of the border: I saw it as the clear metaphor of the colonialism era, where the exploitation was the very main objective. Also, the desperate gold hunting that’s at the very basis of the movie, reminds me of the colonialism exploration that Europe caused in Latin America.

Down Argentine Way (1940)

“Down Argentine Way” is a love story between Ricardo (the Argentinian boy) who crosses the border to sell his horses in the USA and Glenda (a beautiful American girl) who is looking to buy the horse; but once Don Ricardo understands that the girl has the Last name of Crawford, he changes his mind.

Undoubtedly, this movie is not a masterpiece. The only admirable things about this film were the musical piece of Carmen Miranda and the amazing dance of the Nicholas brothers. Miranda’s parts, with coquettish face emotions and her body language in seductive red, were catchy. These could be recognised as a good advertisement for both Miranda and the Nicholas Brothers; however, these were not interwoven into the narrative of the movie. Therefore, neither the songs nor the dancing performances advanced the plot and neither helped develop the main characters. Regardless, these musical scenes could serve as breaks in the storyline or, merely, as a touristic advertisement for Argentina. In “Down Argentine Way”, the role of Americans (Glenda and her aunt) are more important and centric. They are always in the middle of the scene and take the leading role with their impressive moves, while Argentinian spectators are standing to watch, enjoy, and admire them. This is heightened during the song “sing to your señorita”, where Binnie dances in the middle of the villagers which emphasises the sense of superiority of Americans over the Argentinians in a more tangible fashion.

In this movie, like the movie “Flying Down Rio”, Argentina is defined by its seductive and charming people, splendid, and lavish lifestyles, place of night life, clubs, dance, romance and so on. Director had filled his shots with exuberant images and exaggerated lifestyle. When Ricardo says, “in this small village you can find the true Argentina”, he means that here lies passion, and happiness filled with the music, rumba, and colours. Argentina appears with all sorts of exaggerations from 1940; While Argentina continues to be neutral during WWII, it is being pressured from other countries.

The theme of freedom was another theme for this movie which could be implied from the horse-riding. In this film, horses symbolised the power and grandeur of Quintana’s family or Argentina. The rebellion and glory of horses are metaphors for Ricardo. Binnie also mentioned this twice; once when Glenda was watching Ricardo’s riding, and said “- it’s wonderful.” And Binnie asks, “The animal or the beast?”, and again in another scene said, “South America has wonderful horses and wonderful men”. Horses are symbols of freedom and rebellion in south America; also, riding a horse gives the sense of being free. Just like the previous movie, “Flying down Rio”, the honor of the family in which Don Ricardo must obey his father was interesting, but at the end, he rebelled and participated in the horse riding without his father’s permission.

The shadow and hegemony of the north America are also evident throughout the language. English is a common language in Argentina; but the fact that Quintana’s family talks English in their home with each other, or the stable boy talks with a horse in English, was ridiculous. The only Spanish words which were repeated along the movie and were indicators of their origin were: señor, Señoria and Don. These are indications that Argentina was not truly represented in this movie.

In my view, “Down Argentina Way” is much more about the actors than the clichéd happy ending story. The story ends with everyone turning out to be happy, with vibrant colours and luxurious mise-en-scene, which add a high energy to the movie.

Flying Down to Rio: Limits of Looking Back

First, I would love to see today’s films portray cultures correctly and not utilize the differences one culture sees in another to the advantage of the creator of the content. It is also problematic that today’s films showing people from outside North America continue to fail to represent the ‘other’ correctly. Nevertheless, I will purposefully cater my response to be more surface level, based off my emotional response and a simple historical consideration of an American film about a place which at the time, was a lot farther than it is today.

Brazil in 1930 was a country still struggling with oligarchies, extreme economic inequality separating classes and regions, a weakened economy due to the depression and reliance on export products which were highly vulnerable in the changing world economy. Brazil was close to major structural and industrial reform. But as Flying Down to Rio highlights, there was a thriving upper class that could live a lavish life comparable to American extravagance.

Swanson’s article mentions the similarities between the upper classes of both countries. The article also highlights all of the ways in which the film, by using music, dance, racial differences, romance and technology is “an assertion of Northern supremacy” … and “reasserts social hierarchies.” Without delving into the highly analyzed aspects of film, I believe that creating a film about another culture, showing the good sides of the culture, representing it in a way that does not make them look blatantly foolish can aid in the process of cultural acceptance and tolerance, and in the long term, lead to more equality. Brazil in this film looks fun, dramatic and beautiful. I bet viewers wanted to visit this place and left the theater having a better (though highly unrepresentative of the reality), image of the country. The audience was America in 1933— during the middle of the depression. It was not a university professor in the UK in 2010. Also of consideration is Swanson’s point that this film was made before the Good Neighbor policy, which pushed for a more unified hemisphere. The film therefore was not as influenced by the political and economic agenda as Down Argentine Way. The image I chose for this article came up when I googled ‘Brazil 1933.’ It is a rural primary school and a better representation of what Brazil was like. 1930’s Hollywood, could not make a film about this.

I am glad that today we are able to have this conversation. Film such as these, the sexism, racism and assertion of assumed North American superiority has led to many current problems in our view of Latin America and the many different cultures both there and around the world. For this, we need scholars like Swanson and we need to educate and discuss our common misconceptions. At times, I like to watch movies and think about these issues. When it came to Flying Down to Rio however, I could not help but enjoy the representation of Brazil, a country I have studied, visited and have many friends from. Brazil is no doubt a sexy, passionate place. No Brazilian would deny this. The problem arises when the image that foreigners possess of Brazil is shaped only through images that represent small portions of the population.