Bardo

 I guess every filmmaker has the right to put their own spin on Fellini's surreal autobiography 8 1/2. Among the filmmakers who did so were Bob Fosse with All That Jazz, Woody Allen with Stardust Memories, and today's subject, Alejandro G. Iñárritu with Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths. Mexico's submission for the International Film Oscar only got noticed for its cinematography. What about its story?

For a while, I thought Iñárritu had cast himself as the protagonist, Silverio Gama. But it's not him. Silverio is actually played by Daniel Giménez Cacho, who bares quite a resemblance to Iñárritu here. Silverio, a famous maker of docufiction, has just been named the first Latin-American recipient of a prestigious journalism award. This involves going back to his native Mexico, where he fears much of its people consider him a sellout. He finds himself torn between his homeland and adoptive country. That doesn't take into account all the weirdness he puts up with.

How weird is his world? Silverio finds himself in a flooded subway car. He sometimes hallucinates, nauseatingly so, his dead son Mateo. He's shrunk down to child size when he confronts his dead father (Luis Couturier). A sprawling reenactment of the Battle of Chapultepec plays out before him. He crawls a mountain of corpses to meet Hernan Cortes, which turns out to be a movie set. He literally mutes another character chastising him. He likes to talk in voiceovers, something everybody notices. Amazon wants to buy Baja California. I can go on, but I won't.

Cinematographer Darius Khondji truly earned his nomination here. Silverio's world is a sprawling dreamscape whether in a city or the open desert. His long takes, including a trek through a trippy TV studio and a later trek through a nightclub, showcase the equally splendid sets designed by Eugenio Caballero. One impressive long take is an argument between Silverio and his son, Lorenzo (Íker Sánchez Solano), particularly because it quickly starts pouring outside. Silverio's hallucinations are perfectly surreal, especially when one of the extras in the Chapultepec reenactment starts slithering like a snake. I told you this film is weird.

Cacho's performance as Silverio is a good centerpiece. We're weirded out as he is when he's surrounded by surreality. The unnerving Mateo subplot makes tragic sense once we learn more about it. His ultimate closure with the death is suitably weird. He gets much needed levity with his wife, Lucia (Griselda Sicilliani); their relationship is nice. We feel for him when he's mocked on the air by a former acquaintance (the same man he later shuts up). We're infuriated as he is when a customs officer gets on his case at LAX. We truly pity him when the tragicomic explanation for the weirdness hits. His only flaw is his hypocrisy - i.e., telling his kids to embrace their roots while also criticizing aspects of Mexican life - something everybody also notices.

Its immense length compounds the weirdness. The film runs around 160 minutes, quite shorter than when it premiered in festivals last fall. Among others, the LAX scene runs a bit longer than it should have. It's a long argument between Silverio and his family, later with an LAX supervisor on their side, against the unrepentant customs jerk that only ends when Chapultepec extras come in. Yes, really. The film waxes so poetic about life and death, befitting its title (a state between death and rebirth in Buddhist teachings), that it becomes overwhelming for most viewers. Including me around the middle.

Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths, is ready to stream on Netflix now. It has some outstanding surrealness with a good leading performance. It's probably worth seeing once, though you should know what you're getting into. It's a bit unnerving and overwhelming at times, which makes that pause button a welcome tool. Perspectives may vary if you step into Silverio's world.

As for me, I'm going to prepare for my next two reviews. Expect them this weekend.