SCN: Santiago Segura's TORRENTE 4 -- a dose of in-your-face, Spanish mainstream

Yup, there were a number of walkouts, particularly during the long and generally lifeless "prison" segment that makes up the middle of TORRENTE 4: LETHAL CRISIS, the latest addition to the most successful movie franchise in Spain's history and certainly the most unlikely film choice for many of the folk who frequent the FSLC's Walter Reade Theater. Fortunately, the movie comes to life again for the finale with a set of -- yes! -- car crashes and explosions (and humor) that manage to outdo a lot of what we've already seen. What may keep you in your seat, however, is the long, hilarious and possibly most tasteless opening sequence that yours truly has ever viewed.

The creator of all of this -- he wrote, directed and stars in the film: eat your heart out, Clint Eastwood -- is a fellow named Santiago Segura (shown left), whom many of us will remember from last year's SCN in the also very funny but much more interesting films El Gran Vasquez and The Last Circus. Señor Segura is a Spanish treasure of sorts, another actor (like Javier Merino from yesterday's post) who doesn't mind showing himself off in sometimes the most grotesque and unflat-tering poses. Well, he's a comedian (and a fine one), and grotesque is part of the game these days. As the title character, José Luis Torrente, Segura (below, in character) plays a crappy ex-cop, now an equally bad private investigator, who finds himself working as part of a security force at a wedding involving one of Spain's richest and most powerful families.

The wedding reception scene that opens the film is one for the books: a maybe 15-minute, can't-believe-your-eyes-and-ears gross-out during which one thing tops the next until you know this movie can't go any farther. And then it does. Granted, this scene would be hard to top, or even keep up with, but Segura doesn't even seem to try during that long middle section in which we all go to prison. (Even here, however, he manages a whopper of a visual involving, yes, a shower, a bar of soap, and, oh, my....)

What Segura does, and does very well, is give us his reprobate Torrente as a man without a single redeeming quality (except that he's so damn funny). A Fascistic, Communist-hating, queer-baiting, no-manners pig in every way, Segura (and his satire) goes after everyone and, when it works, leaves the injured parties barely gasping for breath. (Much as he hates gays, of course, Torrente is still more than willing to engage in a little mutual masturbation.)

In prison this aging slacker gets involved with a priest (above) and a cute martial arts kid (below), and there's a soccer game between prisoners and guards and of course the de rigueur prison break. But because most of this is already old-hat and because, as writer and director, Segura doesn't bring much new or interesting about it to the table, this probably accounts, as much as anything, for those walk-outs during the screening. While mainstream audiences can live with (hell, they delight in) oft-told jokes, oft-seen situations, and general repetition, Walter Reade audiences usually demand a bit more. Hence the film's huge success on the home front and less at Lincoln Center. (That said, there were a lot of loud guffaws from those of us who remained in our seats.)

It's no coincidence, I think, that the Warner Brothers logo (with As Time Goes By on the soundtrack) leads us into the film. The studio that brought the world The Hangover and its sequel seems determined to prove that, in its national and international search for an entryway into our pocketbooks, funny, taste-free films will always do the trick.

SCN: an artist -- of cartoons and cons -- highlights Óscar Aibar's EL GRAN VÁZQUEZ

You might, if so inclined, refer to Manuel Vázquez Gallego, the leading based-on-life character in Óscar Aibar's new film EL GRAN VÁSQUEZ, as a scamp.  Although he's a fine -- and quite popular -- cartoonist, he's also a thief, liar, con man and, oh, take your pick of several other not-so-hot descriptions. But as he is also funny, clever and even occasionally endearing, you kinda like the guy, nasty piece of crap that he sometimes is. And because he is played by that consummate Spanish thespian Santiago Segura, after awhile you're really just putty in this talented actor's hands. He'll make you love his charac-ter, despite the fact that Vázquez's actions are often plain awful.

Of course, the film takes place in 1960s Barcelona, when Spain was under the "guidance" of Francisco Franco, so any little bit of self-serving deception might also be seen as a kind of "protest" against the fascist dictator and his all-too-willing, everywhere-you-look underlings. Maybe. Or the guy might just have been a nasty, uncaring piece of (talented) trash. This duality haunts the movie from its first scene through to its last. Yet it also gives the film an odd and invigorating fizz. If we don't have to like our protagonist, this frees us to see him whole, without having to give any approval. Writer/director Aibar, shown at left, sees to it that we're rather royally entertained, even as we'd like to kick this guy's teeth in from time to time.

A bigamist who was awfully good at fathering children that he didn't (or couldn't) take care of, the cartoonist had, by the end of his life, seven wives (we learn this from the closing credits). We meet but two of these, though the duo is plenty to keep him busy and us entertained. Shown below, center left, is one of the wives (played by a very game Mercè Llorens), as she receives the many benefits of a Vázquez hotel "con."

We view a number of these "cons" along the way, from the movie's opening scene through its finale. Each is as different as it is clever. Some of the philosophy behind the scams is provided during a walk taken by the artist and his eldest son (played by newcomer Hector Vidales), during which father offers son helpful life lessons that are very nearly as funny as they are cynical and bleak.

Midway along, life -- and the authorities -- catch up with our anti-hero and the movie turns, but only for a time, dour.  Segura's performance, a rich one, tones itself down appropriately, before rising back to life toward the finale. When his nemesis throughout the movie, played with a nice mix of relish and propriety by Álex Angulo (below, center), finally gets his comeuppance, the moment is so perfectly filled with every tiny bit of information that has built up along the way that its payoff is extraordinarily precise, funny and satisfying.

As a filmaker, Aibar sticks close enough to mainstream to satisfy the mass audience. He has the comic strips occasionally come to animated life, which helps us appreciate their liveliness and how they probably appealed to the public of their time. As writer, Aibar covers the necessary bases -- high points, low points -- of his subject's career, while rather cleverly insinuating Spain's politics, economics and culture into the mix.

Just as does the recently-screened SCN film Paper Birds, this one jumps ahead to the end of its main character's days -- with a scene that proves equally funny and moving, showing how very little has really changed in this man. Considering that they are working within the realm of mainstream movie biography, Señores Aibar and Segura have given us a very satisfying film.

El Gran Vázquez will screen one more time at the Walter Reade: this Thursday, Dec. 16, at 4pm. As of now, no US distribution is in the works, but maybe we can hope for eventual DVD or VOD release.

You can click here to see the entire Spanish Cinema Now program.