Biutiful (2010)

Sad and seedy, this tale of a sick man with two lovely children, a bipolar ex-wife, and a profession simultaneously exploiting and protecting immigrants in Barcelona is pretty hard to take. I liked it a lot, better than Jack did, but then I am a huge fan of director/co-writer Alexandro González Iñárritu (directed Babel (2007), 21 Grams (2003), and Amores Perros (2000), all of which were equally grim, and, in my opinion, brilliant). The movie is nominated for Oscars for Best Foreign Film and for Javier Bardem (I wrote about him in Eat Pray Love) as Best Actor, the first time anyone has been nominated for a non-English-speaking role. Bardem's Uxbal has a hard life, but not nearly as hard as the African and Chinese illegal aliens by whose work he profits. The child actors, Hanaa Bouchaib as Ana and Guillermo Estrella as Mateo, are transcendent, and the title is taken from a misspelling by Ana. Maricel Alvarez is also quite good as the mother/ex-wife Marambra.

Cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto (I wrote about him in Broken Embraces) has strayed from his usual colorful work to shoot this in tones of rust and filth. This is not the lovely Barcelona of Las Ramblas, La Pedrera, and Parc Guell, though La Sagrada Familia can be seen through the smog in one shot. Iñárritu's regular composer Gustavo Santaolalla (Oscar winner for Babel and Brokeback Mountain (2005), also scored The Motorcycle Diaries (2004) and more) has given us a gorgeous soundtrack, which I bought without even previewing it and am listening to right now.

This is not for everyone, but recommended for serious film buffs and anyone who wants or needs to see the major Oscar nominees before the show on February 27. Rottentomatoes' rating is barely fresh with 64% from critics and 76% from audiences. We saw this Sunday on a cloudy day while vacationing in Tampa, in a very cool mall theatre called Muvico, with seats that Jack pronounced the most comfortable ever: fully padded, reclining, with wide armrests, and seats low enough that my feet rested on the floor. We sat about halfway back, which was a good thing, because I suspect the handheld camera work may have caused Motion-Picture-Motion-Sickness.