Jauja (2014)

I was completely mesmerized by Lisandro Alonso's quiet tale about a man who goes back to visit the village where his mother lives - Liverpool. That film: mysterious and captivating. Jauja is equally mysterious - perhaps even more so. It's a bold film, perhaps one that is easy to mock. I mean, in a certain sense, this is a completely outrageous and ridiculous film. What we have: a grim-looking Viggo Mortensen, dressed in 19th century gentleman's clothing, ambling along looking for his daughter. The cinematography (by Timo Salminen, famous for his work with Aki Kaurismäki): 4:3 ratio - enhancing a cramped, claustrophobic feel -, wandering shots that endow the sea and the wind with fierce power, surreal lush colors. Mortensen plays a captain posted in Patagonia; his mission is to kill aboriginal people. His teenage daughter has run away with a handsome soldier and now he sets out to bring her back. The film's locations - barren plains and rocks - end up becoming some sort of spiritual (liminal) landscape. This is a tale of longing and desperation and perhaps also futility. However, this is not a psychologically rich portrait of a father's quest for an authentic relation to his daughter - not at all. It's not only the opacity of the main character. Something else is going on, something beyond psychology. Something rooted in the plains, under the stars, in the turquoise sky. Think of the quiet moments of a Herzog film and you get the idea of this kind of journey. Most importantly, reality itself is displaced throughout the movie: the characters wander from one eerie dimension to another. A tale about colonialism, the heart of the unknown within what we thought we knew (dignity, purity, 'civilization'). - This is a film in which everything looks unreal or, rather, hyper-real - one reviewer talks about warped naturalism which makes perfect sense.

Mortensen's captain walks and walks - the camera silently follows. Watching his trek is both hilarious and sad - that Alonso pulls of this weird mix of response is rather skillful. The same thing can be said about the astonishing and baffling ending of the film, that takes you to an altogether different place - I won't spoil it, but for me, this way of bringing the taciturn and desolate story to an end was simply marvelous. Such bold solutions should be tried out more often (for some reason, I sometimes thought about the film Innocence). The great thing about it all is perhaps also its leading actor. Mortensen's role is bold in a peculiar way. It's a wonderfully serious AND silly act to work with, and he succeeds, I think, in not seeming to fear the silliness. He goes from moments of grief to moments of sheer craziness in a remarkably dignified-undignified manner - without vanity, somebody pointed out. At the moment, when I try to recall similar roles, it's more of the Herzog-stuff that comes to mind: Klaus Kinski embodies this kind of boldness, but Viggo Mortensen is a very different actor.

This is a film where you, dear viewer, has to endure a very high level of openness. The takes are often long, but sometimes the cut is drastic and takes you by surprise. I get the feeling that I don't have any idea about what will happen next, even though the whole thing is very focused on Mortensen's eerie journey. Liverpool had that openness as well, even though Jauja feels like a more elaborated cinematic expression. Alsonso is one of the directors that demonstrates what film can be, that it can be far more than you think.