The trappings of the western genre might be hard to place anywhere but dusty towns at the tail end of the 19th century, but its spirit has proved a versatile traveller, showing up in modern day Texas (No Country For Old Men), space (Firefly), the Australian outback (The Proposition) and even Iran (A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night). Argentinian auteur Pablo Fendrik adds the furthest recesses of the Amazon to that list, a twist on the genre that proves a surprisingly good fit.
In our contemporary society, the violent land grabs and intimidation of indigenous people employed by the hired hands of the powerful is as close as you can get to frontier times. Thus Fendrik’s film finds a stylistic mirror for the old west and a genuine injustice worth highlighting.
In a nod to some of the best westerns, most notably Leone’s trilogy with Clint Eastwood, The Burning’s protagonist is a man with no name (only in the credits do we discover that Gael García Bernal’s character is actually called Kai). The prologue tells us that for centuries the people of the Paraná river have summoned beings from the water to protect them from invasions, a practice that appears to have brought this mysterious man to a father and daughter, whose tobacco farm is being threatened by three armed men intent on taking the farm and killing its previous owners.
This premise turns out to be a lot more far-fetched than the truth but Bernal still imbues his character with an offbeat mysticism, implying more than once that the jungle inhabits him as much as he does it. He’s not as manic or eccentric as the conductor from Mozart In The Jungle but just as prone to enigmatic wisdom.
Bernal is one of the most fascinating and watchable actors working at the moment, earnest and sincere but unable to keep that glint out of his eye for an entire film. And his co-star Alice Braga is every bit his equal here. Her Vania has a mix of fiery resolve and desperate vulnerability that brings the character to life.
Fendrik’s film is almost overwhelmingly beautiful to look at. The juxtaposition of the lush green jungle and the dusty farm, the constant shroud of either mist or smoke, the tanned, sweaty, dirty skin of Bernal and Braga, the jaguar who stalks the edges of the story: everything is vivid to the point of distraction.
Where the film falls short is in its pacing. Whenever it feels like the story should accelerate and escalate, particularly once Braga’s Vania is kidnapped by the band of villains, it instead meanders, slowing down almost maddeningly to reintroduce the mystic elements of Bernal’s connection to the jungle or an al fresco sex scene that feels oddly out of place in the narrative. An early, brutal murder feels like a catalyst for the film to kick into gear, but the wait feels interminable.
When the action does happen though, it’s brilliantly staged. The assault on Vania’s farm calls to mind another western of sorts, the forthcoming Slow West. Fendrik amusingly manages to work in a showdown, complete with cowboy hats and a ringing bell, that shown out of context would have any viewer convinced it’s from a traditional western.
There is much to admire about The Burning, not least Fendrik’s desire to draw attention to the real life plight of the Amazon’s people. It’s a shame that it’s really only a tighter edit short of turning from a good movie into a great one.
