the recurring pattern
by Douglas Messerli
Benjamín Cardona (screenwriter and
director) Más que el agua (Thicker than Water) / 2014
And for a short while, director Cardona’s complex film reveals their
idyllic first days of love. Indeed, it appears that finally Joaquín has found
his perfect mate, and in the process he breaks all communication with Carol,
perhaps recognizing that their symbiotic relationship is part of his problem,
that their dependence upon one another is centered upon their inevitable
failures in love.
Instead of following Joaquín’s new love,
the director begins moving back and forth through other episodes in the young
man’s life, which include the attempts of a fellow worker to arrange dates for
him, other instances of temporary love, and Joaquín’s utter and almost
inexplicable rudeness, at one point, to a slightly flirtatious young man who
might have compatible as a companion or just friend.
Most importantly, these disjunctive peregrinations into his past reveal
his few returns home where he meets up with a friendly father but a monstrous
mother Sarah (Jacqueline Duprey) who,
Although from her religious point of view, she cannot accept her son,
they have accepted the fact that his sister is having a baby out of wedlock and
that the couple has been living together, although even that fact infuriates
her. But heterosexuality after all is preferable.
At another point his mother even orders Joaquín out of the house
forever, insisting that the only part of him that will remain is the photograph
she keeps near the door of him as a young boy. One can well perceive that
Joaquín has not had a strong familial base on which support his own sexual
differences.
Gradually we begin to perceive those long-time patterns of his life,
engaging with individuals deeply as he has with Xavier, before suddenly pulling
away and leaving, basically to return to the equally confused and unhappy Carol
who together support one another by pretending that they themselves have been
the victims of others.
This time when Joaquín returns to Carol, having left Xavier, she is
angry for his having not only cut her temporarily out of his life but for just
this continuing pattern. Carol asks why he has finally returned to her, already
knowing the answer. “I just want an explanation. I waited for you for a long
time, you know. I knew you’d get tired of him.”
“What makes you so sure of that.”
“Because that’s how it is. That’s what you do. You let people walk into
your life, and when you get tired of them or feel like they are suffocating
you, you disappear.”
“At least I know what I want.”
“I don’t think so. Don’t be so sure of that.”
In this case, Joaquín truly does regret his having left Xavier, and
returns to him hoping they might start over again or even continue where they
left off. But Xavier, it is clear, cannot begin over or continue a relationship
with a person so unsettled as Joaquín. And this time the rejection is
devastating to the young man because he knows that it is entirely his fault,
that Carol has been right. The problem is his, as he has discussed with his
grandmother: how to forgive himself, and if he cannot, then how to go on
living.
The last scene repeats the first one and, indeed, may be simply a
continuation of that conversation where they sit looking out over the harbor,
trying to rally their forces by declaring
Joaquín asks a serious question: “What’s going to happen to us?”
Carol answers it, probably as she always has, in a meaningless way that
substantiates the true emptiness of their friendship: “Nothing. Nothing’s going
to happen. You’ll be okay.”
The fact that he is not “okay,” and that their relationship, in fact,
represents nearly “nothing” is the true problem that neither of them can fully
face, that what they seek is something other than “the thicker than water”
friendship that so falsely walls them off from what they truly want.
Los Angeles, October 1, 2023
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (October
2023).
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