"Innocent Voices (Voces inocentes)" is a beautiful looking dramatization of the impact of civil war on children and and families, in this case the drawn-out war between the U.S.-backed government of El Salvador vs. guerrillas. It is pretty much the old anti-war poster "War is unhealthy for children and other living things" come to life.
The stark, gripping images and evocative rain forest cinematography, however, are undercut by a socialist realism style of noble peasantry that is stereotypically pedantic and this awful war could just as well be taking place in a galaxy far, far away for all the individuation it is given. Probably the same film could be made about U.S.S.R. involvement in Afghanistan in the same decade, which had similar disastrous results on humanity.
The gorgeous matriarch, played by Leonor Varela. is a noble Mother Courage who will go to any lengths to protect her children like a lioness, recalling Sophia Loren in "Two Women." She is in the impossible situation of living in a village on the border between the two combatants who recognize no civilian free-zones even as the residents try desperately to continue their normal lives of work, church and school, particularly for their children.
The noble village priest is a lot like Henry Fonda's in "The Fugitive" from 1947 (director John Ford's film version of Graham Greene's novel "The Power and the Glory"). The guerrilla uncle is not only a bearded sensuous hunk, but he carries around a guitar with his rifle and sings mournful, banned songs.
The central boy hero is captivating as played by Carlos Padilla, as he switches back and forth from playful boy (and the scenes of youthful optimism amidst the war are funny and sweet) to "man of the house" to infatuated boyfriend to radicalized recruit. The brutal irony of the fear of reaching his 12th birthday as the point of eligibility for forced recruitment into the army is palpably conveyed, with striking visual imagery, explosive interruptions of daily life and slow motion horror. However, he is, sadly, virtually identical to the resourceful young survivor of Iraq's wars in "Turtles Can Fly (Lakposhtha hâm parvaz mikonand)," and recalls World War II's Anne Frank and the boy Montgomery Clift befriended in "The Search" or the boy soldiers of the last gasps of Germany and Japan who have recently been portrayed. The lengthy closing scroll finally makes the point that boys are being violently robbed of their childhoods all over the world, and doubtless we'll be seeing films about Sudan and the dirty diamond wars.
Some of the secondary characters have more personality, such as a local bus driver, and the playmates.
The opening scroll points out that this civil war stopped having any ideological or policy meaning and the film shows how brutality and revenge carries on with an inertia all their own, driving out those who want peace.
The score and song selections are beautiful, though tracks by Ozomatli and Bebe probably aren't of the period.
The stark, gripping images and evocative rain forest cinematography, however, are undercut by a socialist realism style of noble peasantry that is stereotypically pedantic and this awful war could just as well be taking place in a galaxy far, far away for all the individuation it is given. Probably the same film could be made about U.S.S.R. involvement in Afghanistan in the same decade, which had similar disastrous results on humanity.
The gorgeous matriarch, played by Leonor Varela. is a noble Mother Courage who will go to any lengths to protect her children like a lioness, recalling Sophia Loren in "Two Women." She is in the impossible situation of living in a village on the border between the two combatants who recognize no civilian free-zones even as the residents try desperately to continue their normal lives of work, church and school, particularly for their children.
The noble village priest is a lot like Henry Fonda's in "The Fugitive" from 1947 (director John Ford's film version of Graham Greene's novel "The Power and the Glory"). The guerrilla uncle is not only a bearded sensuous hunk, but he carries around a guitar with his rifle and sings mournful, banned songs.
The central boy hero is captivating as played by Carlos Padilla, as he switches back and forth from playful boy (and the scenes of youthful optimism amidst the war are funny and sweet) to "man of the house" to infatuated boyfriend to radicalized recruit. The brutal irony of the fear of reaching his 12th birthday as the point of eligibility for forced recruitment into the army is palpably conveyed, with striking visual imagery, explosive interruptions of daily life and slow motion horror. However, he is, sadly, virtually identical to the resourceful young survivor of Iraq's wars in "Turtles Can Fly (Lakposhtha hâm parvaz mikonand)," and recalls World War II's Anne Frank and the boy Montgomery Clift befriended in "The Search" or the boy soldiers of the last gasps of Germany and Japan who have recently been portrayed. The lengthy closing scroll finally makes the point that boys are being violently robbed of their childhoods all over the world, and doubtless we'll be seeing films about Sudan and the dirty diamond wars.
Some of the secondary characters have more personality, such as a local bus driver, and the playmates.
The opening scroll points out that this civil war stopped having any ideological or policy meaning and the film shows how brutality and revenge carries on with an inertia all their own, driving out those who want peace.
The score and song selections are beautiful, though tracks by Ozomatli and Bebe probably aren't of the period.