Dominga Sotomayor's TOO LATE TO DIE YOUNG: a Chilean artists' commune circa 1990

A kind of banner year for the country of Chile, 1990 saw the end of the murderous dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet. The dawn of that year embodied by a New Year's Eve party proves the pivotal point in TOO LATE TO DIE YOUNG, the new film by Dominga Sotomayor, in which the filmmaker attempts to recapture a very specific period and place of her own youth, a small Bohemian commune in the hills far above the city of Santiago.

The result is a slow-paced but not uninteresting look at the young, the teenage and the adult world of that day, but without ever -- unless TrustMovies missed some offhand but loaded Chilean reference -- mentioning anything remotely political at all.

Instead, Ms Sotomayor's movie (the filmmaker is shown at right) covers the budding romantic, sexual and jealousy-laden lives of the teens, the often angry and sadder lives of the parents, and the free-wheeling fun had by the very young. The film opens and closes with a dog running along a road. But what a huge difference in feeling each of these scenes conveys. The filmmaker also uses a foreboding brush fire somewhat in the manner of Chekhov's gun.

In between there's a load of quite realistic, if somewhat generic dialog and behavior from pretty much all the characters involved here. (The filmmaker has used all fledgling performers to essay her leading roles.) And while we don't expect anything close to the liveliness and wit of, say, Noel Coward on display, one occasionally longs for something more from this mostly very non-communicative bunch.

The leading character is a budding young woman named Sofia, played very well indeed by newcomer Demian Hernández (shown above), whose activities and feelings pretty much anchor the movie. Sofia is being courted, sort of (if only he had more courage), by Lucas (Antar Machado, shown below, under Sofia)

but Sofia herself prefers the older and much more confidant Ignacio (Matías Oviedo, below, right), who knows just how to be, sequentially, appealing, seductive and shitty.

Señor Hernández -- the actor was in the middle of transgendering while the film was being made; he has now, we are told, made the transition fully -- is particularly good at looking pensive and confused, so that Sofia pulls us in and easily holds us in her questioning, questing grasp. (In an earlier rendition of this post, I had assumed that Hernández was transitioning from male to female; I apologize for that assumption.)

Still, it is the youngest generation, personified by Clara (Magdalena Totoro, below), who eventually makes us think and feel most. Clara proves the moral center of the film: Who she is, how she reacts, and what she finally does brings the movie to its fitting close.

Though the pace is slow and meandering, you may find a day or two after viewing it, that the film has stuck with you in ways you might not have expected. It is odd, too, that for or all the fraught historical baggage that the year 1990 carries for Chile, this particular movie could be taking place just about anywhere and at any time -- it's that "universal."

From Kim Stim and running 110 minutes, Too Late to Die Young (Tarde para morir joven), in Spanish with English  subtitles, opens today, Friday, May 31, in New York City at Film at Lincoln Center (the unnecessary new name for what we used to call the Film Society of Lincoln Center: Was the latter one too many words for today's audiences?), and then the following Friday, June 7, it will open at the Laemmle Music Hall in Los Angeles. Another eight cities across the country are scheduled for the weeks to come. Click here, then scroll down to click on PLAYDATES to learn if you're in the vicinity of any of these. Blu-ray, DVD and digital opportunities are also promised soon by this increasingly prolific distributor.

NOBODY'S WATCHING: In Julia Solomonoff's unusual immigrant saga, an actor prepares -- but for what?

Via NOBODY'S WATCHING (Nadie nos mira), the new Latin American co-production directed and co-written by Argentine filmmaker Julia Solomonoff, audiences are going to see one of the year's best performances so far by a male actor. This would be Guillermo Pfening, another Argentine who has already amassed some 67 credits at this point in his nearly 40-year life. Mr. Pfening, shown at right and below, fully and richly embodies his central character, Nico -- a relatively successful actor in his home country, who has come to New York City to both further his career and get away from his controlling lover, who happens to also be the director/producer of the successful television series in which Nico plays a role. (Nico's character has been put into a coma, while the actor decides what to do next.)

Señor Pfening (The German Doctor) gives the kind of performance that ought to win a bunch of awards for the depth, clarity and warts-and-all reality the actor brings to it. It won't, of course, because it's not "showy" enough or full of chances for over-the-top (melo)drama. Folk who appreciate a genuine, full-out performance, however, will be glad they went out of their way to catch this one.

For her part Ms Solomonoff (shown at left), along with her co-writer, Christina Lazaridi, brings an unhurried, loose and naturalistic style to the film, working the exposition into the situation, while bringing character to the forefront and thus avoiding the kind of melodrama that often accompanies some of the situations shown here. The filmmaker allows us to slowly but surely understand the kind of man our Nico is, along with the characteristics that alternately control him: pride, insecurity, kindness, love, desire, ambition and lots more. Via particularly well-chosen situations involving everything from employment to friendship, auditions to sexual encounters, baby-sitting to simple relaxation (in which the director and her star make us privy even to thought processes), a full-bodied character and the movie that surrounds him come to life.

To make ends meet, as he waits for the film to begin production for which he has been hired, Nico takes odd jobs -- from bus boy to taking care of a good friend's infant (above and below), the latter being a job for which he is not well-equipped but which, because he's a decent and caring guy, he manages to quickly learn.

The bond that forms between Nico and his little "charge," as well as between him and the Hispanic nannies he meets in the park, are just two of the many surprises and pleasures offered in Nobody's Watching.

The supporting cast is well-chosen and appealing (that's Elena Roger, above, as Nico's best friend in the big city), with each actor finding the truth of his/her character quickly and effectively. Nico's peculiar combination of ambition and self-reliance coupled to a nearly equal dose of self-destructiveness makes this character oddly appealing and very believable.

The movie's interesting "take" on its immigrant story also makes it timely yet unusual in its choice of the type of immigrant we see -- his "class," level of education and the like -- even as he, like so many others, sees America as a stepping stone to a better life. (At least our Nico has a country he can return to without the possibility of being tortured and/or killed because of that return.)

One of the movie's most interesting sections involves a reunion between Nico and his friend (played by Marco Antonio Caponi, above, left) who stars in that popular TV soap opera in which Nico also appeared. Both men want to impress each other, but Nico goes far beyond what's necessary. How his friend responds, once he discovers Nico's ruse, provides one of the film's more tender and appealing moments.

When we finally meet Nico's ex-lover, Martín (Rafael Ferro, above, left) and begin to understand the control coupled to sexual appeal the latter offers, more puzzle pieces fall into place. By its conclusion, the film has grown both broader and deeper than we expected going in, even as we feel that Nico may have finally -- if just barely -- turned the corner into "growing up."

From FiGa Films and Cinema Tropical, Nobody's Watching opens tomorrow, Friday, September 8, in New York City at Film Forum. Elsewhere? Nothing is scheduled just now, but if I learn of further openings, I will post them here. Or, if you're not in NYC, maybe wait for the eventual DVD/streaming options.

Note: Director Julia Solomonoff will appear 

in person at NYC's Film Forum 

at the 7pm show on both September 8 and 9.