Man’s Downfall (2000)(AKA The Ruination
of Men, La Perdicion de los Hombres)
Arturo Ripstein’s film, written
by his wife, might initially be seen as misogynistic.
After all, the females in the mid-section of this
three-act tragedy could best be described as harpies
as they argue and actually physically fight over a
dead man’s body. After watching some of the film,
or perhaps even all of it, one might also think it
is really misanthropic. “Man’s Downfall” shows men
to be foolish, idiotic, homosexuals who care only
about themselves. They are dreamers, layabouts, and
act irresponsibly. The film may actually seem misanthropic
rather than misogynistic. After all, the title refers
to both what men think is their undoing (supposedly
women) and also what it really describes as man’s
ruination - his own irresponsibility.
The film is set in three separate
and well-constructed sections. Paz Alicia Garciadiego’s,
Ripstein’s wife, creates a wonderful chronology that
keeps us interested and calculating. The film begins
with a murder that shows just how difficult it is
to kill a man and how persevering one really must
be to accomplish such an undertaking. By showing us
a murder and then allowing us entrance into the killers’
sphere but never informing us why the homicide took
place, Garciadiego engrosses us. She also shows us
that her killers are neophytes at the activity and
this further perplexes and engages us. This plays
into the film’s central theme, its central question
as well: What is a man’s life worth? For surely something
that dies with such difficulty must be worth something.
We spend much time, the first third
of the film to be precise, with the killers and in
that time many philosophical conversations occur.
Here Garciadiego begins the work of creating a theme
and a plot to support her reflections on man’s thoughts
and ideals. She has much to discuss here and does
so with a script that is deft and interesting. When
she has her killers engage in a homoerotic dance,
after discussing how evil women are, even more nuances
are heaped on the thematic elements of the film.
This opening segment is also quite
unusual in that it has almost no determinable time
setting. The natural exteriors and the anachronous
interiors make us believe we are seeing a film set
in the past. The time could be anywhere from the late
1800’s unto the mid-50’s as far as we are concerned.
There are no modern conveniences and nothing to suggest
that the film is taking place in the present day.
As the film is shot in black and white, someone unaware
watching the film might even think it was made in
the 50’s. (Okay, in fact, this was me. I had no idea
what year the film was made when I viewed it).
It is only upon the commencement
of the second section of the film, it’s midsection,
that it became obvious that the film had been made
in the last 15 years or so. A girl plays with a hand-held
video game when the sequence begins.
This section takes place in a police
station and features a story where two women, who
both have had children by the man killed in the first
section of the film, argue over the rights to his
body. Here the film attains a truly Mexican point-of-view
as the culture and rituals of the country becomes
important. Not only the manner in which the police
deal with the situation but how the women engage in
their “mourning” rites as well.
It is during this section that one
might think Garciadiego is truly presenting a misogynist’s
point of view. The women here are harpies who value
appearance within their community and cultural tradition
much more than they mourn the loss of a loved one.
They argue, spit and even physically fight with one
and other over who has rights to the body of the deceased.
Garciadiego makes wry comments on her culture and
calls into question not only female perspectives but
cultural perspectives as well.
It is only in the third section
of the film that we begin to see truly what Garciadiego
is discussing here and that is this question: What
is a man’s life truly worth? What is a man’s life
truly about? In this section she further discusses
her themes by actually entering a man’s head. She
provides voice for his conscious using the device
of an announcer (both on the radio and at a baseball
stadium).
I am not sure how baseball is perceived
in Mexico (although in dialogue here it is decried
in juxtaposition to soccer as a less manly sport).
But I can tell that the triviality of the sport is
what is truly important about it to Garciadiego and
to her themes here. It is no accident that baseball
is of importance in both the story and the setting
here. And I think the true reason it is used is because,
to many, it is so trivial.
It is only upon seeing the entire
film and truly reflecting on it that we see Garciadiego’s
real examination here is not purely misogynistic or
misanthropic (if the word is to be apply only to males).
She shows both men and women to be fools and to be
irresponsible and self-absorbed. Her story implies
that egocentric behavior will lead to "Man's Downfall”
but it also shows that everyone is self-centered and
motivated by their own selfish interests. Culture,
religion, money and sex all come into play here but
never charity or kindness or forgiving. In Garciadiego
world, and this is her film as much if not more than
it is her husband’s, men and women may have different
playing fields but the game is always a game. And
life is always a game. What is a man’s life worth?
To Garciadiego it must seem worth everything because
she shows such obvious disdain and dislike for those
who act as if it is worth nothing – or worth only
something trivial.
Ripstein, himself a filmmaker for
over 40 years now having worked as an assitant to
Luis Bunuel, gives us the perfect visual perception
of Garciadiego’s world. His black and white images
caked with dust and sweat show a world so concerned
with objects and wealth, as well as societal perceptions,
that they barely notice the repulsive squalor in which
they truly exist. His film is crude and seems archaic
because the characters here are so witless and outmoded
as to be obsolete. He films as if he were making his
first film on no budget with long takes, and the silent-era
device of a fade-to-black at the end of each scene.
This is not the cinema of 2000 and beyond, but the
cinema of the past.
But truly it is this structure that
makes the film the artistic masterpiece that it is.
The long takes and perfectly placed camera only serve
to give us a voyeuristic look into the hearts and
souls of these heartless and shallow characters. It
is intimate, as if we are examining these characters
under a microscope. The long takes serve to further
intensify this feeling of reality as no real camera
devices ever distract from this perception, nor does
the trappings of any editing stratagems. The camera
is unblinking in the repulsive story it shows us,
unflinching in its depiction of the horrendous qualities
of the characters. And the acting is so perfect as
to never distract from this as well. All of those
involved here do truly perfect work but none deserves
more praise than Patricia Reyes Spindola. She is simply
mesmerizing here. The crags in her face say as much
about her character as the dialogue.
And finally there is the chronology
of the film, which makes it work perfectly. In placing
the first part of the story at the last of the film,
Garciadiego turns the piece into a black comedy. She,
the voice, and her husband, the mirror, show us the
horror of men and the horror of women. It is repulsive.
And then they show us the supposed justifications
for such horrors. When it turns out to be trite and
nearly meaningless, the true horror of it all is finally
exposed.
What is a man’s life worth? This
theme is not a question to Garciadiego or Ripstein.
This is the set-up. The joke comes in their resoundingly
misanthropic answer. They expect us to laugh when
they expose to us that the answer is this: It is worth
the value that he assigns it, nothing.
Notes:
Viewed as a part of an Arturo Ripstein
retrospective by the Austin Film Society with some
showings incorporated into the
2003 SXSW Film Festival.
