Once Upon a Time in Mexico Review
By Joe Lozito
Mexican Splat Dance
In Robert Rodriguez' "Once Upon a Time in Mexico", Antonio Banderas picks up where he left off in 1995's "Desperado", continuing to glower his way through the role of "El", a character that itself began played by Carlos Gallardo in Mr. Rodriguez' famously low budget "El Mariachi". "Desperado" was half a sequel, half a remake of the 1992 original; Mr. Banderas' character followed much the same path as his predecessor, while having flashbacks to some events of previous film. Confused yet? Well, "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" continues the vagaries. But it's almost not worth trying to keep track of the inconsistencies between movies. All that counts is that "El", as he is now known, is a one-man, seemingly bulletproof killing machine whose wife and daughter were killed by the evil General Marquez. I know, I know, that's not how it happened before but it doesn't matter. After all, Spaghetti Western pioneer Sergio Leone, an obvious inspiration to Mr. Rodriguez, was never concerned with the past of Clint Eastwood's Man with No Name. And besides, judging by the title, the film is a supposed to be a fable, so stop asking questions and sit back and enjoy.
Sadly, that's not as easy as it should be. Mr. Leone seemed to compose his films, taking long stretches of time to build characters and relationships only to play with loyalties when the guns were drawn. Mr. Rodriguez knows that the fans of his "Mariachi" series don't have the patience for a slow build up, so he presents almost a "Cliff's Notes" version of what might have been a more interesting story of betrayed loyalty and political double-crosses. There may be some backstory that was either cut out of the film, or existed only in the writer-director's head, but whatever happened to it, the end result feels slapped together, as if Mr. Rodriguez threw a fistful of characters at the screen in the hopes that something would stick. Thankfully, over the years, the director has made some good friends.
Salma Hayek shows up only in flashbacks as the slain wife, no doubt to repay a favor to the director who made her famous. Mickey Rourke and Ruben Blades actually create the only characters worth caring about as a retired criminal and FBI agent respectively. These two belong in a different film - one that will explore the backstory that each actor must have prepared before filming. The oddest casting choice must be Willem Dafoe as a cartel leader. Perhaps in honor of the re-release of "Scarface", Mr. Dafoe dons a cheesey "joo mus' be yoking!" Mexican accent - particularly striking among so many native speakers. And then, of course, there's Johnny Depp. Unable to save this film as his did "Pirates of the Caribbean", Mr. Depp is in danger of making his characters quirky for quirk's sake. His Agent Sands is such an unconventional oddball that it's impossible to believe he's survived this long.
Even the gunplay in the film is sloppy. Maybe this was the director's intention, but the fight sequences explode instead of unfolding coherently. There is never a sense of danger. The bad guys can't hit the side of a bus and the good guys always succeed with one shot. It's a film cliché that Mr. Rodriguez has exploited to the point of boredom. Unfortunately, whereas Mr. Leone's films were actually about something (The West, Loyalty, the Good, Bad and Ugly, etc), the Mariachi series has always been about flying bullets. Now that Mr. Rodriguez is able to "chop, shoot and score" he own films, you can almost picture him perched at his Mac workstation, amusing himself with what he's able to accomplish. It's not as much fun from this end.
