This was the last night of HOME’s triumphant Viva Festival and judging by yet another packed house in Cinema 1 at 6pm on a Tuesday, I trust that it has been a well-deserved financial success for this flagship Independent Cinema venue.
For this last night I plumped for ‘Birds Of Passage’, co-directed by Cristina Gallego and Ciro Guerra, who have collaborated on a brace of films previously, most notably the Oscar nominated ‘Embrace Of The Serpent’ in 2016. I must confess that I had read the blurb in HOME’s detailed Viva programme when I booked the ticket, but did not make time to do so when I entered the cinema, so I was wholly unprepared for what was to come, and boy was I in for a surprise!
Set in the 1970s ‘Birds Of Passage’, a Columbian co-production, opens with a young woman completing a year-long isolation from her Wayuu tribe on Guajira desert and participating in a ceremony in which she faces suitors by dancing a duet, nay duel, with them. As Zaida is presented to the tribal elders who confirm that she has come of age, she is met by Rapayet, her would-be suitor if only he could win the approval of the tribe’s matriarch and Zaida’s mother. Rapayet must provide a dowry that is clearly beyond his means and is warned that the spirits will still not approve, so the story switches to Rapayet’s predicament. How would this young man find this dowry and become a central part in the Wayuu tribe that disapproves of him? A chance meeting with some Americans in the Peace Corps (I took too long to spot the irony in this) leads to Rapayet seizing an opportunity to provide them with Marijuana from an estranged family members mountain plantation and this event sows the seeds (pun intended) for a crime saga befitting The Godfather.
Despite the genre conventions of the Gangster film being ticked off like a filmmaker’s bingo card, Birds Of Passage transcends its genre to create a film that is wholly unique and hypnotic. What separates this film from its often crass American counterparts is partly its stylistic and aesthetic choices. From the opening scene the edit pace is deliberate and demonstrates a patience which allows you to acclimatise to this enthralling and alien environment. The static shots of windswept, sun-bleached horizons, coupled with the close-up neutral angles of the characters allow you read every nuance of their complex relationships without ever losing the sense that the land is itself a character. The soundtrack uses dissonant drones to create a sense of dread that resonates throughout the film, but blends the tones with tribal singing which provide an aural history and perhaps hints at Greek chorus.
The soundtrack’s reference to Greek tragedy is deliberate and hints to what truly sets Birds Of Passage apart from other films within this genre. The Wayuu are Columbia’s largest indigenous people and their rituals, beliefs and cultural codes are rich in symbolism, which Gallego and Guerra draw upon skilfully. It is fair to say that whilst most crime sagas feature characters choosing their destinies with nihilistic relish, Birds Of Passage is about characters ignoring the choices made for them by destiny (in this case, the spirits). Birds Of Passage is a crime tragedy on a Shakespearian scale, with portents, spirits, visions, talismans and rituals manipulating characters towards their inevitably grim fates. The symbolism of animals recalls Old Testament imagery or Macbeth’s reunion with Banquo with such effectiveness that the last hour has you watching the background or edges of the frame to spot any harbingers of doom. Gallego and Guerra so effectively pull you into the Wayuu culture that when spirits are ignored and boons discarded, the audience feels a palpable sense of dread as though they theirselves have just walked under a ladder. The comparisons with Macbeth continue when we learn that Rapayet, never fully integrating with his Wayuu tribe, does not have the stomach for violence; perhaps 'he is not woman enough' for it and the power struggles corrupt the souls and psyches of all those around him.
Birds Of Passage sets its sights on ‘epic’ and meets those expectations in every way except hyperbolic excess. It is a film of remarkable restraint despite telling a story of excess; for example, in one horribly ominous scene we know a sleazy character is set to attack a woman he has been leering at for some time and just as he does so we cut to a shot of a mountain road as he escapes the scene of the crime. The dreamy omission of Foley sound, with the dissonant tones leaves one in no doubt about what has happened, horrified and full of dread at the ripples that will spread out from this act. We have seen and heard nothing, yet the horror of knowing is sickening enough. There are few acts of violence on screen, so when a gun finally goes ‘bang’ it jolts you in a way that on-screen violence should. It is not normal, it is frightening.
There is not a single performance out of place, from the professional actors in central roles, to the authentic non-actors in supporting roles, but the film belongs to Carmina Martinez, whose imposing matriarch exudes power and threat without ever losing her empathic appeal. If the final reel fails to fully unleash the conflict it hinted towards, it is a minor quibble and perhaps says more about the audience’s expectations of the genre, than the filmmakers, who are aspiring to loftier, more sophisticated ideas. Every part of Birds Of Passage is tactile and evocative, immersing the viewer in a beautiful environment cursed by violence and greed. It casts a spell that is at once entrancing and unnerving.
Reviewer - Ben Hassouna-Smith
on - 9/4/19
Great post.
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