Biutiful by Alejandro González Iñárritu

Between broken homes, ghosts of illegal immigrants and freakish club dancers, a man tries to make peace with himself. When he finds out he has cancer, Uxbal tries to put things in order before his last breath. Biutiful’s simple poster, featuring a close-up of leading actor Javier Bardem, pretty much tells everything about Iñárritu’s fourth film. His tired face looks you directly in the eyes: this is not the story of a man, but the story of mankind. His wild ride through love, family, business and the city hustle of Barcelona is summed up in barely perceivable tears. For Uxbal’s two children, the only warmth found at home comes from a lamp that allegedly cures bipolar disorder; Marambra, their mother, swings from one extreme to another.

With only a few months left to live, a man who has seen and done too much tries to pay for his sins with good deeds and parental affection. But is that possible? An act of charity turns into murder, while inner demons get in the way of family getaways. What legacy does today leave for tomorrow? Not only misspelled beauty, but also misused coping mechanisms: grown-ups have more dilemmas than answers. With vivid chromatism and hypnotic sounds, Iñárritu portrays a world in which good intentions lead to catastrophe. Putting the weight of all contemporary evils on one character’s shoulders could have easily become an exercise in pity, but Biutiful ends a heavy-hearted story with a serene touch of hope.

By Andreea Dobre