Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s Amores Perros
“Amores Perros (Love’s A Bitch)” is a Mexican anthology film that deals with the intertwined connections between three separate groups of people after a tragic, unifying event in the midst of Mexico City. Inarritu tells the story of a brother spurned by an unethical affection for his sister-in-law; a supermodel mistress in a hidden relationship with a cheating husband; and a hitman still recovering from a lengthy prison sentence, longing to find for himself the life he could never have.
Many have compared Amores Perros to Pulp Fiction, both for it’s style of inter-cut film-making and it’s heavy reliance on virtuous and iniquitous themes. There is a very strong correlation between this and Pulp Fiction, but the differences remain clear and the film is determined to be held on it’s own. Where Pulp Fiction opts for humour and entertainment, Amores Perros continues to be cold and unrelenting in it’s demeanour. This is a film to be taken seriously, and one to evaluate the wickedness of human nature in it’s most revolting forms. There are no rainbows here, and there are no happy endings, there is grey with strong dashes of black, but rarely does any white take it’s place. Much like Requiem For A Dream, this film is never scared of it’s grim and brutal path, but remains confident and powerful in it’s stride from beginning to end. If anyone is intrigued by the exploration of the dark abysses of the human mind, this is a grand and distinctly memorable place to find it.
I enjoy that Amores Perros is filmed as an anthology, I feel that a film with such strong themes and deliberate planning flourishes under these techniques, and Inarritu is all the better for having taken hold of them. The sequencing of the film is very carefully planned, when it is fast it is fast for some entertaining reasons, but it knows when to slow down and take care when it is appropriate. I very much enjoy Inarritu’s constant play with the speed and tone of the film, keeping it firm in it’s intentions but malleable enough to never become stale and under-worked. Wherein Pulp Fiction has a strong network of connections ingrained between it’s characters, Amores Perros opts for a much more focused interpretation of each character when their chapter arises with only small cameos by other characters outside of their stories. As opposed to skipping back and forth frequently between character situations, the film spends a long and thoughtful time developing each character’s chapter almost independent of the others until the time is right to throw them together or delve thoughtfully into a short scene and stare at the emotional wreckage. With each passing scene the unique traits and histories of each character become available to us and we are led deeper and deeper into their surroundings, with each story culminating in a sombre, yet respectably moving finale.
The cinematography is very well done, and I praise Inarritu for his ability to close in on each character’s trials and tribulations with the utmost detail and respect for the story at hand. A combination of action and drama serve as a balance for Inarritu to hone and mould gracefully the personality and distinction of his actors, facing them with a challenge to fulfil, and ending in a worthy reward. The soundtrack is very well used and adds flair to it’s surroundings in a manner that I respect greatly.
The acting is brilliant and the cast is comprised of some very top-tier Mexican talent, immeasurably improving on the story itself by the effortless portrayal of the characters time and time again, I’m glad Inarritu was given the chance to work with such an impressive slew of actors so early in his career, as without them the film would never have reached it’s full potential.
The themes of the film are abundant and spread wide, but the most prevalent of all is the balance of loyalty/disloyalty. As expressed by the frequent inclusion of dogs into the story-lines and the personality traits we generally hold to them, Inarritu never lets go of loyalty as a virtue and the consequences of taking a step in the other direction, reminding us time and time again, what comes of such an unethical life. The message is subtle when it lets the film get by on it’s other merits, but bold and steadfast when called for, the centrepiece of the production and the thing Inarritu is forcing us to grasp and ponder.
Inarritu knows how to account for the bleak and the savage, an endeavour he has shown prominently with his later works, but his feature debut Amores Perros is undoubtedly his grandest achievement, and the most intensely engaging and mentally satisfying of them all. Anyone with an obsession for the darker corners of our nature and the consequences of those inherent vices would be hard-pressed to find a more worthy indulgence than Amores Perros, and those with a respect for passionate and relentlessly unflappable film-making will be equally rewarded. I fully recommend Amores Perros, it may be one of (if not the) most impressive films to come from Mexico that I have ever seen.
The trailer shown does no real justice to the full film and could have been much better constructed, but some idea of the scenes remains clear and I implore anyone with a thirst for good cinema to take me up on this one, the result is astounding.
