But especially in “real” life, which the movies can sometimes credibly suggest, but never
quite completely capture.
“Carancho” and “The Strange Case of Angelica” are both foreign films, and both were
released in the United States on the same day. Both are essentially romances, but
they are polar opposites in their approach, and their context.
“Carancho” is an Argentinean film by much-honored director Pablo Trapero. It’s
tough, gritty, violent and very nearly hopeless. Sosa (Ricardo Darin) is a disgraced
attorney turned ambulance-chaser. He has fallen in with some particularly cynical
crooks, who arrange to swindle insurance money from accident victims by handing
them a mere fraction of the intended settlement, in cash, up front, in exchange for
their signature to give them complete power of attorney. Then, when the insurance
company does have to pay up, the swindlers receive the lion’s share of the settlement.
And, if business is slow, they go out and stage “accidents,” usually by offering
as “victim” someone desperately in need of a little cash. They’ve even managed to
attach to their payroll some paramedics who happily transport the latest “victim”
to the emergency room, where they sometimes have to insist on medical treatment,
because, well, the beleaguered medical staff just can’t handle the sheer volume
of “real” cases, much less have time to sort out the corrupt ones.
Sosa thinks that if he can only work the scam for a while longer, he can make enough
to “go clean” and restore his reputation as a legitimate attorney. But, of course,
the thugs who hire him keep careful track of the money, and if some is found to be
missing, well, they’ll literally take it out of his hide.
On one of those occasions, Sosa meets Lujan (Martina Gusman), the rookie medical
school graduate who is willing to ride with the ambulances just to try to make a good
impression at the emergency room, where she hopes to be offered a residency for
a “real” physician’s position. The problem is, she’s become so accustomed to the lack
of sleep that she’s started “shooting up” to keep herself awake. Through the haze of
her self-induced stupor, she’s vaguely aware that there are scams and corruption going
on around her, but she pretends not to notice.
Sosa becomes quite enamored with Lujan, and she’s so lonely and desperate for
affection that she believes this “vulture” when he promises that he’s turning over
a new leaf. Their brief intimacy, borne of unfulfilled longing and confined to
secret trysts, nevertheless begins to give both of them hope that things really can be
different. If they can just con this one last mark, arrange for one last hit, keep the
ravenous wolves at bay for just a little while longer…..
“The Strange Case of Angelica” (“O Estranho Caso de Angelica”) is a Portugese film
by the ageless director Manoel de Oliveira. (Can he really be directing films at the age
of 102?) It’s set in the 1950s, but feels even older, like something out of the 1930s, as
if they’re really just filming a stage play, even in the outdoor scenes. Marido (Filipe
Vargas) is a lonely young man who fancies himself as a photographer, staying in a
small boarding house, and taking stark pictures of laborers with pickaxes, working in
the fields. The village is sleepy and orderly. Not much happens, until late one night
Marido is rousted from his sleep by an urgent request from a nearby wealthy family
to take a photograph of their lovely Angelica (Pilar Lopez de Ayala), who’s just died,
quickly, before her stunning beauty begins to seriously decompose. Marido takes a
few pictures, but something extraordinary happens to him: Through his lens, he thinks
he sees her smile at him. He is so stunned that he can hardly speak, and when he
returns to his room he becomes obsessed with his fantasy of this girl, who comes to
him at night, floating in the air, beckoning him to join her floating over the landscape.
It’s so pathetic that it’s kind of endearing, because it seems so innocent. Throw in the
stately pacing, the stilted demeanor, and the Chopin music in the background, and you
have the kind of idyllic, phantasmal fantasy/romance that you would expect from a
much earlier, simpler, time.
Both of these foreign films are about love’s obsession. Both are, in their own ways,
unsatisfying, and their endings are eerily similar. But unrequited love is often more
interesting by its very inherent tension.
Ronald P. Salfen is co-pastor of United Presbyterian Church, Greenville, Texas
