There's a lot to like in this Mexican short film. On one hand, we have its production values and filmmaking decisions. It's a bold move to tell a compelling story without a single spoken word, with only three characters and some animals in the cast (I can only wonder about the difficulties of filming some of those scenes). It makes the most out of its surely limited budget, proving once again that writing a good script doesn't necessarily cost more money.
On the other hand, it's an amazing horror/dark fantasy film, in which a boy is somehow linked to a mysterious creature that lives inside a well, having to feed it for undisclosed reasons. It brings forward several questions: what would happen if the kid doesn't feed the monster? Why does the kid feel responsible for it? Did something awful happen before the beginning of the film, prompting this situation? Does the kid share a telepathic connection with the dweller of the depths? Those are intriguing queries that excited my interest and made me keep watching, then rewatch it and then discuss it with other people.
And I'll have to grow a third arm, because in yet another hand we have an allegory that speaks of class struggle, of consumerism, of social oppression, of uncaring "equals" that gobble everything in their way without any concern for their peers and the concerns they might have. The resourcefulness of the kid and the way to put his problems against each other to try and reach a solution is brilliant.
And finally, there are many great touches here and there: the almost expressionistic setting at the table, the scene with the eggs (which reminded me of a similar one in a Nuri Bilge Ceylan movie) and the relieving but at the same time heart-breaking ending that has traces of Macario and speaks to a people who have suffered a lot and seem unable to stop doing so.
Currently available for free in filminlatino.mx/corto/hambre-c.
On the other hand, it's an amazing horror/dark fantasy film, in which a boy is somehow linked to a mysterious creature that lives inside a well, having to feed it for undisclosed reasons. It brings forward several questions: what would happen if the kid doesn't feed the monster? Why does the kid feel responsible for it? Did something awful happen before the beginning of the film, prompting this situation? Does the kid share a telepathic connection with the dweller of the depths? Those are intriguing queries that excited my interest and made me keep watching, then rewatch it and then discuss it with other people.
And I'll have to grow a third arm, because in yet another hand we have an allegory that speaks of class struggle, of consumerism, of social oppression, of uncaring "equals" that gobble everything in their way without any concern for their peers and the concerns they might have. The resourcefulness of the kid and the way to put his problems against each other to try and reach a solution is brilliant.
And finally, there are many great touches here and there: the almost expressionistic setting at the table, the scene with the eggs (which reminded me of a similar one in a Nuri Bilge Ceylan movie) and the relieving but at the same time heart-breaking ending that has traces of Macario and speaks to a people who have suffered a lot and seem unable to stop doing so.
Currently available for free in filminlatino.mx/corto/hambre-c.
