Culture

Directed by Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, (3.5/5).

In Biutiful, Innarritu presents a dark story set amongst the labyrinth-like streets of Barcelona. The film is cyclic, both beginning and ending with death. We watch Uxbal (Javier Bardem), who is the father of two young children and the husband of a bipolar, curly-haired woman who struggles with addiction and sways at the edge of their lives. Uxbal is involved with an illegal factory which is run by two unforgiving Chinese men who have a sexually intense affair with each other, and which imports Chinese workers to make cheap goods. He is also dealing with malignant cancer yet still trying to provide a livable environment for his children (a reoccurring theme in contemporary film and television). However, like a poorly made fake Louis Vuitton purse, his life inevitably deteriorates into pieces of material connected by single threads.
 
The film is claustrophobic. Only rarely do exterior shots provide context, only rarely are there moments of relief. At times you feel like you’re sitting in a dismal cave, with mould dripping down along the walls. Although Biutiful received a nomination for Best Foreign Film in the Academy Awards, the audiences’ reactions will remain undoubtedly mixed. In the small cinema in which myself and only one other person sat, the experience was uncomfortable. Biutiful did not provide a cathartic release but rather was an emotional journey both dismal and horrifying. The acting is brilliant (Bardem was nominated for Best Actor at the Academy Awards) and there are some moments of pure cinematic poetry. We watch huge moths beating their wings on the cracked ceiling above Uxbal’s bed and ants crawl down a window covered in an oil painting smudge of the outside world. However, I think the students of Dunedin have enough dampness in their flats without the depressing addition of this film to their world.