| THE POPE'S TOILET (2007) : Charlone & Fernández : 5/10 |
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![]() There are many fine films coming out of South America at the moment which never make it to British screens - and this makes it somewhat baffling that a so-so enterprise like The Pope's Toilet should manage to nab distribution. Officially a Brazilian/French/Uruguayan co-production, it was mainly filmed in the latter country, was Uruguay's submission for the Foreign-Language Oscar this year, and both its writer-directors - Cesar Charlone and Enrique Fernandez - are Uruguayan. The most recent example of this nation's cinema to make many waves outside the country was probably Whisky (2004) by Pablo Stoll and the late Juan Pablo Rebella - but that picture didn't exactly set British arthouse box-offices alight back in summer 2005. The Brazilian connection is perhaps slightly more plausible, as Charlone, was the cinematographer (Oscar-nominated, no less) on City of God. And can it really be a coincidence that The Pope's Toilet should pop up in the UK only a week before Jose Padilha's Elite Squad, which has been hyped for many months as "the new City of God" - and that both movies should revolve around preparations for a visit to South America by Pope John Paul II. That crucial plot detail apart, however, it's hard to think of two more different films in terms of tone and mood than The Pope's Toilet and Elite Squad. Whereas the latter is all testosterone-loaded uber-urban bluster, the former is a gently observational tale set in Melo, sleepy little town on the Uruguayan-Brazilian border. When the pope's itinerary (this is supposed to be 1988) is announced as including Melo for a short stop, the locals reckon that the influx of Brazilian pilgrims will want to be fed and watered - and they spot a rare, potentially lucrative opportunity to relieve their tough economic circumstances. The film's focus is on a typical Melisto family, whose chief breadwinner Beto (Cesar Troncoso), decides to create a semi-public toilet for the visitors, with admission-charges levied and toilet-paper handed out by his long-suffering wife Carmen (Virginia Mendez) and aspiring-journalist teenage daughter Silvia (Virginia Ruiz.) But Beto - who makes a precarious living smuggling batteries back and forwards across the border on his rickety old bicycle - exudes haphazardness and desperation, and it doesn't take a prophet to foretell that his elaborate scheme isn't exactly a sure bet. The predictable aspects of the plot aren't a massive hindrance, however, largely thanks to the engaging performances by the three main leads - supported by some vividly-drawn minor turns. A bigger distraction is the array of gimmicky little visual flourishes - juddery editing, momentary slow-motion, etc - with which the directors try, rather incongruously, to gussy up their slim narrative (revealing their inexperience in the process.) Any intended critiques of the Catholic church, organised religion or entrepreneurial capitalism seem rather fuzzy, and the actual "culprits" in this specific story - pettyfogging bureaucracy, and the wider absurdity of national borders - are really only discussed in asides. In addition, there's never much of a convincing atmosphere or attention to detail to persuade us that we're in the late 1980s, while that attention-grabbing title doesn't fit the narrative particularly well. Audiences may well expect the Pontiff himself to take advantage of Beto's makeshift facilities after being inopportunely "caught short", though such a development would only make sense in terms of broader, more knockabout and farcical comedy. The Pope's Toilet yields only the occasional hard-won smile along the way: as the documentary-style footage of once-optimistic, now-crestfallen peasantry in the latter reels indicates, this is essentially pretty grim fare, more bitter than sweet and amounting to little more than an overlong shrug of world-weary, o-tempora-o-mores resignation. Neil Young 27./28.Aug.08 -------------------------------------------------------------------- El Baño del Papa Uruguay (Uru/Fr/Brz) 98m (BBFC timing) directors : César Charlone (debut) Enrique Fernández (debut) editor : Gustavo Giani (debut) seen 18.Aug.08 Newcastle (The Tyneside Cinema : £6.85) ![]() |
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