The relationship between man and nature is difficult to display and be taken seriously. Its not the viewer’s fault, often-times anything nature related is overly preachy and uncomfortable, lacking the true love that we could all relate to in favor of condescension in hopes to better our environment. Big surprise, it doesn’t work, and in the end, instead of better understanding the parts of the world that we’re beginning to lose, we end up with an extreme disdain for not only the film, but whatever it was about. Talk about an extreme backfire. Fortunately, there are films here and there that allow us to appreciate the beauty of particular regions without beating us over the head with any sort of politick, because we already get it. Pedro Gonzalez-Rubio’s “Alamar” does just that.
Set in the waters of Banco Chinchorro, the largest coral reef in Mexico, the film also features a delicate narrative. Two parents, once wildly in love but extremely different (one a traditional woman from Italy and and the other a man of the land from Mexico), divorce and plan to go their separate ways, with their young son off to live the city life with his Mother in Italy. Conflict is disregarded; the fighting has already happened and we begin at the aftermath of the decision. As a final send off to his son (Natan), hoping to create a loving and lasting memory and to teach him about nature, the father (Jorge) takes him on a boat trip in which they will live off the land, fishing for barracuda and diving for lobster.
Right off the bat, the director’s intellect is apparent. In the beginning, the boy has a hard time connecting with his father. To convey this idea, most films would certainly portray the boy as a brat that gradually learns to love his father’s ways, and even the more subtle directors, while keeping the boy from over-acting, would probably throw in a line or two of Natan telling his father that he wants to go home or can’t do this or that. Gonzalez-Rubio instead plays on a succession of scenes, starting with the boy getting boat sick to his difficulty in snorkeling. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and father and son bond incredibly. The director achieves the narrative and emotional arc he was going for without sacrificing intelligent film-making.
Much of the film is like that, little dialogue and simple sequences of father teaching son or son interacting with various wild-life or people. There’s one scene that’s particularly touching and beautiful, where Jorge attempts to get the bird they’re playing with to jump from his leg to his son’s leg, and he ends up flying away. There’s something truly striking about this, maybe the fact that it’s extremely simple yet completely captivating, or maybe it’s the fact that you can really feel the love between father and son as he passes his knowledge down to the next generation. Or maybe it’s simply the drop dead gorgeous cinematography (done by the director himself), capturing the region, doing it justice and then some.
The filmmaker’s blend of narrative and documentary is ideal for the beauty that is the Banco Chinchorro, capturing it and its inhabitants in real time without any distracting interference. The land speaks for itself. This story of father and son on their last few days together says so much with so little, and is genuinely moving and heart-breaking. Even those who generally can’t take an overly simplistic plot will still fall in love with the coral reef and shed a tear for the father/son relationship that will soon end due to distance. Educational, intelligent, affecting, and astonishingly pretty, “Alamar” is not to be missed. [A+]