Tenoch Huerta's performance was hypnotizing. For the first 10 to 15 minutes, it looked more like a parody of indie filmmaking 101, but then all of a sudden it geared up to be a flawed but still fascinating surreal landscape of Mexico City. I'm generally not a fan of digging up Nouvelle Vague from its grave, but Alonso Ruiz managed to do it right. Anyways, this is just my kind of weird.
Starting slow, hyper-stylish, and relatively devoid of dialogue, I feared no substance, a meandering Mexican Napoleon Dynamite in black-and-white, or a hermetic sensorium about addiction. But like La Haine, once it gets revving, it doesn't stop, and pieces hinted at resurface and accumulate in different contexts. The youthful pursuit of the present/absent artist, student riots, and Mexico City owe much to Bolaño.
what an absolute gem! i think it is pure impressionism in film - it is about fleeting moments, the beauty of them, the memories that you make for yourself while young and impressionable. i think it is delightfully careless and fanciful, but what is best about it, is that it doesn't take itself seriously. the delicate, self-reflective humour with sarcastic undertones - that's what makes it miles away from pretentious.
Replete with a New Wavy swing, to say that Güeros is mere looks means to dismiss photography’s savvy to deliver a mundane-rooted fable so fast and consummately, it baffles verbatim articulation – Cartier-Bresson's & street photographers’ “decisive moment”, the never-repeated split of a second & alert, roving readiness to fish the rare out of the hic et nunc. Seen holding this in mind, the film plot is a story arc for