While September is generally considered the dumping ground for studio flicks that have little studio faith, one could still hope against hope that the suits in their Hollywood offices have been saving a golden nugget to close the summer out strong. But when you're talking about sequels, in the summer of sequels, a September release just screams dread.
Once Upon a Time in Mexico, Robert Rodriguez' latest dabble into the world of a long-haired, guitar-case-full-o-guns toting Mariachi would seem like a shiny diamond, a "save the best til last" outing to deliver audiences the goods in a way seldom seen this year (with the exception of X2, of course). Unfortunately, what we get is closer to Matrix Reloaded-- lots of bang, little buck.
Rodriguez' first outing,
El Mariachi, with all its low-to-no-budget freedom and delightfully original take on the old revenge theme was incredibly rough around the edges, but brimming with promise.
Fortunately, that promise was kept in the guise of Desperado, the landmark film that catapulted Antonio Banderas to superstardom and introduced most white America to what Latinos could offer when given the chance (and money). Perhaps taking a cue from a Mexican recipe book, Desperado contained the right ingredients of character, story, action and threw in great acting, original directing, and just enough fantasy to keep the audience begging for the next scene.
Once Upon A Time In Mexico, however, lacks all of this. Perhaps Rodriguez has been making Spy Kids movies too long to remember how to tell a grown up story, but
Once Upon A Time In Mexico is as far removed from what made its predecessors great as the Highlander sequels are from its original.
From the outset of Rodriguez-familiar Cheech Marin's exaggerated history of the Mariachi to CIA-agent Johnny Depp, the plot becomes virtually untraceable. An endless parade of character names and unfamiliar situations told only in bit flashbacks is enough to give one a headache only fifteen minutes in. Though we get to SEE Banderas' unchanged Mariachi soon enough, we know little to nothing about where he's been, what he's doing, and above all, where Salma Hayek's Carolina is. But, allowing the movie some credit based on the previous films, we trudge along, sinking deeper and deeper into newly introduced characters, confusing plot points and a growing suspicion that this is NOT a movie about our beloved Mariachi, but in fact a confusing political statement being led by indie-favorite Depp. In fact, Banderas vanishes from screen so long we forget he's even in it. Of course, there are much worse people to have carrying your movie than Johnny Depp. But that's not who we came to see. Banderas disappears into the background, appearing periodically to shoot up the locals. His only motivation in the film is seeking revenge on Marquez, a seedy villain (or so we're told) who did SOMETHING bad to the Mariachi, though we're not entirely sure what. There's no scene to explain the relationship until almost the end- no dialogue- just a few tossed remarks about how bad Marquez is and that the Mariachi is none-too-pleased with him. Toss in a Mexican Willem Dafoe (how bad did he need the paycheck?), his henchman played by aging tough-guy Mickey Rourke, Depp's gun-for-hire Danny Trejo, a requisite femme-fatale in the luscious Eva Mendes and a sinister aide to the President of Mexico and you have no idea who the villain isor worse, if there even IS a real villain to unite against. And as if that weren't enough to keep track of, add a few of good-guys in Ruben Blades and Enrique Iglesias and you've got a bigger cast than Ben Hur!
What I noticed from the audience reactions I observed, however, was that despite the needlessly confusing plot, never-ending cast list, total lack of character development and the fact that neither Banderas or Hayek were on the screen for any significant amount of time, people still gasped and stared wide-eyed at the non-sensical action scenes displayed before them. While Desperado had a unique style and edge,
Once Upon A Time In Mexico has copied and diluted it to the point of only a decent B-movie. While predictable and, at times, ludicrous gun battles pervade, there's enough ohh-factor to keep you in them. The close-up editing that is generally reserved for films where the director or actors can't realistically pull off a fight is present here, whereas the slicker-than-pomade shootouts of Desperado have apparently disappeared to the Island of Lost Dreams. Fans of the previous films beware-- the wonder, the majesty, I dare say the HEART, of the Mariachi films is gone.
This is the story of an overzealous CIA agent using a myriad of flat local characters to overthrow the card-board President of Mexico and prevent an unseen, rogue military general from taking his place and taking down a clichשd and unthreatening drug lord. Thrown in is something regarding a brooding Mariachi. If you're looking for the most confusing plot since Memento, but also yearn for the mindless action of Tomb Raider, this is your movie. If, like me, you prefer a movie with characters to care about, stories that grab you, and no-holds-barred directing, try Brotherhood of the Wolf, The Matrix, hell, even Terminator 3. But as Dia de los Muertos approaches, say a solemn prayer for our poor Mariachi, for he is truly gone.
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