In the story

'The night face up'

, Julio Cortázar tells the perhaps dreamed story of a man who dreams of being another man.

Two stories run in parallel divided by the line that separates day from night,

waking from sleep.

Someone who travels on a motorcycle suffers an accident and in the sleep of shock, he imagines himself being chased by the ancient Aztecs.

In their own way, the two accounts contradict each other.

Reality belongs to only one of them, although the truth reaches both.

Determine who dreams to whom will seal the possibility and meaning of the narration itself: in one of the stories, the protagonist is sacrificed.

Michel Franco imagines in

'Nuevo Orden'

a game similar to Cortázar's.

But with a slight modification:

what you see on the screen is our nightmare, that of all of us today.

That, or by following the rules proposed by the Argentine, are we not right now the placid dream of a simply unbearable reality?

Dystopia, a boring word, could well be the mirror in which everything that is simply there and we refuse to contemplate is reflected.

The film that landed in Venice hungry and with the explicit desire to be seen is already the current Mostra event.

Regardless of what happens from now on, the vocation and capacity for discussion and the fever remain there.

Somehow, if only by coincidence in the subject matter, what

Bong Joo-ho's

'

Parasites

'

meant

at the last Cannes festival is what

'New Order'

aspires to (and breathes)

.

It is true that the viscerality of the Mexican manners has nothing to do with the elegant and conciliatory virtuosity (everyone likes) of the Korean.

Here,

everything hurts much more.

The Mexican director Michel Franco.EFE

The film has for the first stage the wedding between the heirs of two families from the upper neighborhoods of the city.

The camera opens a gap between the guests and the noise in a devastating opening shot close to the prodigy.

And the spasm.

Suddenly, the revolt, the chaos and the blood shouting 'Die your God'. All this tinged with a strange green color that calls to the uprising with the same evidence as to nausea. Those who rise up are the poor, the Indians, those who serve the rich. Or so it seems.

'New order'

wants to bother with an elementary exercise of making the terrible simply possible. Or real.

As is the norm in this director with a '

Hanekian

'

taste

, the violence runs across the screen with a frightening calm.

It is not so much about normalizing it, much less

glamorizing it

.

The idea is to offer it as is, in its only crude naturalism,

but with the context slightly modified.

It is enough to change the set, so that everyday matters such as discrimination or abuse show their less photogenic side.

The director says with didactic manners that his film is only slightly removed from the reality of Mexico.

He continues: "Currently,

social and economic inequality is becoming widespread and unsustainable.

It is not the first time that the world has faced a similar scenario and corrupt governments have historically responded to all protests with dictatorial violence. This film it is a warning: if inequality is not addressed by civic means, and if all dissenting voices are silenced ... chaos. "

Seldom did the message offer less scope for dissent.

In any case,

'New order'

wants more.

From all points of view.

The narration is diluted in an infinity of voices that leave all their power of conviction to the puzzle of situations that aspire to a sense and logic of their own.

It is a film that relies on the most physical, acid and even tactile protagonism of cinema.

On the other hand, the metaphor of colonization as an eternal aggression colors every plane.

And he does it, how could it be otherwise, with the color of blood.

Also in this respect nothing residual is applicable the story of Cortázar.

The imperial dream of some is a daily nightmare for others.

The latter with the passing of time have remained as slaves of those who inherited the former.

We are talking, of course, of racism.

And so.

The result is

a film for amazement, dissension and, if necessary, the revolt

that crosses the screen in one breath.

But no air to sigh with.

Michel Franco takes away any attempt at subtlety.

The metaphors are as clear and hard as, for example, flint is clear and hard.

Each statement comes close to both the complaint and, if necessary, the insult.

And it is there, in that area where there is no room for more delicacy than the cry in which '

New order'

becomes strong.

And attack.

The only doubt, as in 'The night face up', is to find out who dreams of whom, which side of the screen has the privilege of reality.

And the truth.

And so, again and again, aware of the necessary failure of all this.

"In the infinite lie of that dream ...", what Cortázar would say

.

The rest, shipwreck

And once the ritual of surprise was completed, the other arrived, which is what the COVID Festival has lavished the most on:

confusion.

The other two films presented in the official section offered two of the lowest records so far this festival.

Out of competition,

Kyle Rankin

signed

'Run Hide Fight'

(run, hide and fight), a strange and highly debatable mix between social reflection, the most crudely '

exploitation

'

cinema

and simple immorality.

And within the race for the Golden Lion, the director

Julia von Heinz

rehearsed in '

And tomorrow the entire world

' (And tomorrow the entire world) an approach to violence as a political tool as energetic as it is out of focus.

In the first case, Rankin recounts a massacre at a high school.

The idea is to investigate the reasons for this recurring mess in the United States.

As it is, the film attempts a reading of this society that we tread

harassed by narcissism, consumption and, of course, social networks

as a disease and a symptom at the same time.

All this while not giving up offering the viewer a show of shootings and blood very close to the even simpler shamelessness.

For the end there is a celebration of an eye for an eye that, yes,

blushes

.

In common parlance, this is what comes to be called a bad movie.

Truño

even.

In '

And tomorrow the entire world',

the problems are different.

Here neither the intention nor the expertise of the director to give the film a contagious verve is discussed.

The story is told of a group of young people dedicated to the work of fighting fascist and very violent groups.

The question is always the same: should violence be fought with violence?

And the answer is just as universal and timeless: no.

Until it gets here, the film lingers in a tortuous maze that, far from clarifying anything or adding a comma to the debate, only blurs it.

In between, loves, post-adolescent insecurities, family conflicts ... Otherwise, containment and simplicity are not characteristics that Julia von Heinz likes to cultivate.

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