Julio Chavez as the Red Bear is a less neurotic Tony Soprano. He's not a mob man, nor does he have a "family" to run, but he is a family man every bit as much as he is a killer.
In fact, other than the brief shootout that shows us why the Bear did a stretch of time right after his daughter's first birthday, the first hour and fifteen minutes of the movie are an intense, moving family drama involving four characters, all brilliantly acted: the Bear, his daughter, her mother, and the weak-willed loser the daughter and her mother now live with.
I could go on about how deftly the film portrays all these inhabitants of a seedy but still charming part of Buenos Aires—people barely getting by, people mostly on the wrong side of the law—but this story is squarely centered on the Bear. Again like Tony Soprano, he has a solid physical presence in every scene—a manly grace and style—even when he's doing something as simple as drinking a glass of beer or smoking his ever-present cigarette. He is dignified, never rushed, as he moves through his world, and yet he reacts with lightning swiftness when threatened or attacked. This is not a man to mess with, that's for sure.
This is not a thriller: it's an emotionally rewarding tale about family and violent crime. It's so perfectly structured, not only will you admire every scene as it unfolds, but in the end you will draw a deep breath of satisfaction at how well they all work together to tell the story. And the music, including the stirring national anthem of Argentina, is gorgeous! Even a children's story about how flamingos got their red legs seems to resonate with this tale of blood relationships—and blood money.
Last but not least, the final shootout is an instant classic: I watched it three times, that's how cool it is.
Don't miss this flick.
In fact, other than the brief shootout that shows us why the Bear did a stretch of time right after his daughter's first birthday, the first hour and fifteen minutes of the movie are an intense, moving family drama involving four characters, all brilliantly acted: the Bear, his daughter, her mother, and the weak-willed loser the daughter and her mother now live with.
I could go on about how deftly the film portrays all these inhabitants of a seedy but still charming part of Buenos Aires—people barely getting by, people mostly on the wrong side of the law—but this story is squarely centered on the Bear. Again like Tony Soprano, he has a solid physical presence in every scene—a manly grace and style—even when he's doing something as simple as drinking a glass of beer or smoking his ever-present cigarette. He is dignified, never rushed, as he moves through his world, and yet he reacts with lightning swiftness when threatened or attacked. This is not a man to mess with, that's for sure.
This is not a thriller: it's an emotionally rewarding tale about family and violent crime. It's so perfectly structured, not only will you admire every scene as it unfolds, but in the end you will draw a deep breath of satisfaction at how well they all work together to tell the story. And the music, including the stirring national anthem of Argentina, is gorgeous! Even a children's story about how flamingos got their red legs seems to resonate with this tale of blood relationships—and blood money.
Last but not least, the final shootout is an instant classic: I watched it three times, that's how cool it is.
Don't miss this flick.