Casa de mi Padre

Casa de mi Padre – This little comedy is reasonably diverting, has a coherent narrative, and is pretty funny. It’s a Will Farrell film (2011) and so the identity of the director (credited to Matt Piedmont) doesn’t really matter – the picture is a vehicle for its star. The picture raises some interesting questions, some of them derived from the commentary track. Casa de mi Padre is shot in Spanish; Farrell wasn’t dubbed – he actually learned enough Spanish to speak his lines, some of which are quite complex, in that language. The film defines itself as a parody of Mexican telenovellas. Set on a large ranch somewhere in the Mexican mountains, two sons compete for their father’s affections. The old man is played by a famous Mexican character actor, Pedro Armendariz, well-known for his appearances in American westerns, including several of Peckinpah’s films. (The old fellow died before the film was released.) One of the brothers is a narco-trafficker; Will Farrell plays his dense, but virtuous and kind, sibling. On his death bed, Farrell’s father tries to compliment him – “you have the eyes…they eyes of a small chicken,” the patriarch whispers before breathing his last. The narrative involves lots of operatic gun battles, tempestuous senoritas, horse ridden into the sunset, and some swimming activity at a desert lagoon called the Spring of Seven Tears. The film’s continuity is intentionally wretched – people’s clothing switches changes inexplicably between shots, the number of henchmen is highly variable, and there are very funny, inept special effects. Onza is the name both of a deadly drug-lord and, also, a white mountain lion that talks in a deep voice, sounding a little James Earl Jones, and gives wise counsel to the dimwitted hero. The film suggests that Mexican telenovellas are cheaply and ineffectively made, crammed with hopelessly faked special effects, and poorly acted. Farrell and company seem sensitive to the notion that their view of the Mexican TV and film industry might smack of elitism, arrogance, and, even, be somewhat racist. Accordingly, Farrell deflects these criticisms by learning Spanish and shooting the whole film in that language – he seems to dare his critics to accuse him of patronizing the Mexican film makers whom he parodies. It seems bizarre to do penance in this way – Farrell’s Spanish sounds good, and he rolls his “r’s” with enthusiasm, yet his entire performance seems a gimmick, and a comic, satirical gimmick at that. I have seen a few Mexican telenovellas on TV and they don’t seem particularly inept or poorly made – they are more or less equivalent to their American cousins, and, in some ways, have higher production values (they usually feature spectacular landscapes and haciendas). It is little questionable to treat the Mexican film industry – the industry of Inarrittu (Amore Perros), Carlos Reygardas (Post Tenebrae Lux), and Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth) – as naïve and primitive. Mexico probably produces better films than the United States; it’s not the national equivalent of Ed Wood, and, I think, there is something marginally offensive in the notion that the Mexicans don’t understand film continuity. Furthermore, the commentary track is a little concerning as well. The screenwriter notes many hommages in the film – but they are always to American pictures like Goodfellows, The Godfather, and so on. The commentary track makes no reference to the telenovellas or other Mexican potboilers on which the work is ostensibly based. This leads me to wonder whether Farrell and company have ever even seen any of the films that they are supposedly parodying. If they aren’t parodying these films, then, the whole thing is a bit pointless. (I recall a comment on the album liner for a Michelle Shocked CD, Arkansas Traveler, containing her versions of old Minstrel Company songs; Shocked said: When you cork-up, you have to do it with respect.)