We Are the Flesh (2016)
Gareth Jones
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Starring María Evoli, Diego Gamaliel, Noé Hernández
Directed by Emiliano Rocha Minter
Screened at Mayhem 2016
Bearded loner Mariano (Hernández) lives in what appears to be an abandoned building in a post-apocalyptic world. When he isn’t stomping around, beating on a giant drum, he’s filtering what looks like fuel, which he trades for eggs via a hatch in the wall. Who’s providing the eggs? We’ll never know.
Into Mariano’s solitude comes brother and sister combo Fauna (Evoli) and Lucio (Gamaliel). Under the condition they help him construct what appears to be a gigantic cardboard womb, the increasingly unhinged Mariano allows the pair to live with him… but things quickly take a mind-bending turn.
Throughout the insane course of Emiliano Rocha Minter’s aggressively experimental, art-house parable We Are the Flesh, Mariano’s grip on Fauna and Lucio sees him become something of a cultish leader, guiding the pair down paths of gratuitous incest, cannibalism, sacrificial murder and almost constant base debauchery.
Bodily fluids grace the screen on a consistent basis. From sweaty skin to semen ejaculation to Fauna’s menstrual blood dripping into her brother’s mouth, it all matches up to sodden latter-stage environments and a climactic orgy that feels palpably coated in lubricant.
Narrative is a secondary factor for Minter, who is more transfixed on visually delivering the notion of a mankind freed of restraint, reveling in all of the base nature activities he can. Noé Hernández’s Mariano is a formidable presence – all power and insanity, doubled when he inexplicably transmogrifies from a destitute-looking vagrant to a sleek, track-suited messiah, sloppily reborn in this makeshift womb – whilst fellow leads Evoli and Gamaliel should be lauded for their bravery, spending the majority of the film naked, copulating and writhing for Minter’s camera.
If you’ve managed to piece any of the above together, then you’ll know exactly what to expect from We Are the Flesh. This is the kind of visceral, boundary-pushing cinema that will never, ever be accepted by mainstream filmgoers – and will likely be hard going even for those accustomed to transgressive filmmaking.
Mainly, this is due to Minter’s inability to maintain a consistently interesting thread – a visual flow or narrative hook to keep the art anchored. Instead, samey visuals occasionally make way for something that garners a zap of incredulous shock, and it soon feels as though We Are the Flesh is simply more concerned with being as provocative as possible than it is with delivering solid observations or a lasting connection. It’s likely to be championed merely for its lack of restraint – but whether you take anything more from it will be down to interpretation.
Still, it’s interesting enough as a mind’s eye telescope into this director’s heaving, dripping psyche; a singular vision that seeks not to please, but simply to be. Even if you come out the other end hating it – or even feeling relatively nonplussed, for that matter – you’ll be hard pushed to point out anything else quite like it. That’s a guarantee.
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Film
Categorized:Reviews
