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| Armando Espitia in 'Heli' (2013) |
‘Heli’
(2014) starts with an air of malice and keeps its tone laced with it
throughout. In Armat Escalante’s Cannes Prize winner, Mexico is painted as a
country struggling to get past its own image of itself, a nation that for
historical, social and economical reasons, has not yet been able to lift away
what it represents to most in the western world; an almost lawless land, dry
and remote, that forgoes what holds most western societies together. Though
much of the writing around the film has singled out the films more macabre
scenes, what is interesting about the film is its depiction of a corrupt and
hypocritical landscape that is at odds with the traditional family dynamic (a
five person family living in a two person home, few working in more than manual
labor; is it surprising that drugs become involved in these films?). Its
depiction of masochistic acts of violence make for relentlessly grim viewing,
yet if they were shown in any other context would they have the same scarring
impact?
The prevalence of the war on drugs
throughout the region is a sad truth that lingers over the film. Its startling
opener, with the depiction of a gang related hanging, sets the stage for the
rest of the films more blunt and curiously morbid scenes, scenes that have,
inadvertently, come to define the film. The films title is in reference to the
main character, an unremarkable factory worker supporting his young family in the
same job as his father, who, at the start of the film, is visited by a
representative of a national survey to ask about how many are living in the
home, whether he is employed etc. As it becomes clear, schemes such as these do
little to bring about change; in the current climate is it not the apathy that
most of the country feels towards corrupt politicians that is more pressing? In
a scene laced with irony, a spokesman proudly announces a recent operation
uncovering and destroying an unknown quantity of drugs despite the fact that it
is the drug business that gives him this high position to begin with.
Unknown to Heli, with the stress of a job
and parental responsibility, is the plan that his sister Estella and her
boyfriend Beto have for their own future, where they naively cling to the hope
that, after Beto comes into possession of a bag of cocaine, they will be able
to sell and leave within a heartbeat. Once Heli learns of what is happening
it’s already too late; all in a blink, there’s nothing he can do stop what is
about to happen. In a telling interview with The Guardians Catharine Shoard,
the director talks about the ‘grabbed from the headlines’ nature of the film’s
scene of extended torture and humiliation, a scene that may seem fictitious or
masochistic in approach if it weren’t for the films social context. As
Escalante goes on to say in the interview, it’s not an empty or thin
provocation but an everyday reality in parts of Mexico that girls as young 14
are pregnant and pictures of decapitations are spread across the front page. In
that respect, the scenes of unimaginable cruelty can be imagined as a
terrifying reality; whom can Heli trust if he can’t even trust members of his
own family?
A cast of relative unknowns helps the
likeness to everyday events; in the films more intimate scenes, it is the
rushed and amateurish (if always professional) approach to the snog or sex that
makes the film more lifelike, more tangible and, in its own way, more
dangerous- the closer the film gets towards realism the closer it begins to
reach the world of political film-making with bite. More pressing perhaps is
the position that Heli holds when held up against films tackling the issue of
corruption and exploitation in the ongoing war on drugs. There’s ‘Miss Bala’ (2011) a lavish tale of
beauty queens and gangland violence; ‘Maria
Full of Grace’ (2004) from Columbia, the critically acclaimed drama that,
much like Heli, is grounded and complicated by the central family dynamic. Among
these films it could be said that the effect that Heli has comes off as more of
a soft tap on the shoulder rather than landing a knockout punch.
After the now infamous scene of torture, the
film is slower but more contemplative. It doesn’t turn into a revenge thriller
as one may expect and instead shows the hypocrisy that has become all too
common with the police force in Mexican society. Heli continues in his job,
tries to mend his broken relationship with his partner and waits for his
sisiter to come home. The police are in the background but don’t seem to pay
much attention (in fact a scene involving the arousal of Heli by the sight of
the police officers breasts becomes reminiscent of Carlos Reygadas’s ‘Post Tenebras Lux’ (2013) with its daydreaming
surrealist atmosphere beginning to creep into the world of Heli). It’s a bold
curve ball that isn’t distancing or alienating. Its truthful of what these characters
are; women in the film are wives and men are men, driven by their impulses. Its
scenes like these that transcend the films obvious limitations (unprofessinonal
cast, small budget etc.) and stake a claim for the films existence beyond its
obvious social agenda. It’s an uncompromising depiction of a society not sure
of what lies ahead but there is little about Heli that breaks new ground. 