Review

Review Date: 17-May-09
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Junk

Rudo y Cursi (2009)

To my way of thinking, there are certain stories that deserve to be told over and over again. Good overcomes evil. The underdog saves the day. A long lost wanderer reaches home. Then there are stories that do not deserve retelling but for some reason get a lot of play. The story of Rudo y Cursi is an example.

Carlos Cuarón, who co-wrote Y Tu Mamá También, reunites the stars of that movie and takes the director's chair for this uninspired film. The title refers to two half-brothers whose nicknames translate into English as "Rude and Vulgar." No, this is not a Mexican comedy in the vein of the Farrelly brothers (although there are a couple of funny moments), but a parable about how misfortune ensues when shallow dimwits do stupid things. (Um, duh.) Rudo (Diego Luna) is a man-child who neglects his wife and children and has a habit of losing at cards. He shares a rustic compound with his mother, an ever-changing rotation of her husbands, and various relatives and half-siblings including Tato (Gael García Bernal). Although Tato engages in the same macho posturing and crotch-centric raillery as his brother, he is more innocent. He frequents cantinas not to gamble but to play his accordion and dream of becoming a singer.

It goes without saying that both men love soccer and so happens that they excel at it. Their ship appears to have come in when a sports agent (Guillermo Francella) takes note of their athleticism on his way through their dusty town. He tells the brothers he can only represent one of them at first and, after a quick contest, takes Tato to the big city. This sets up fraternal discord and the rise and fall of the country mouse, or rather mice, since Rudo gets his chance after Tato's career has been launched. The brothers become soccer stars, with Tato gaining his nickname, but they cannot shake the curse of being dumb in a place where the stakes are higher than back home. They succumb to ego trips, gold-digging bimbos, drugs, and big league debt. We have seen and heard about such foolishness a thousand times. Each iteration seems either nauseating, like coming upon roadkill, or meaningless, like looking at somebody else's vacation photographs. While human idiocy will endure, I can only hope that repetitive descriptions of it will die out.

Copyright © 2009 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.