Tough
& Corny An
awkward tale of sibling rivalry by
Molly Templeton
RUDO
Y CURSI: Written and directed by Carlos Cuarón. Cinematography,
Adam Kimmel. Editing, Alex Rodriguez. Music, Felipe Pérez Santiago.
Starring Gael García Bernal, Diego Luna, Guillermo Francella, Adriana
Paz and Jessica Mas. Sony Pictures Classics, 2009. R. 103 minutes.
Diego
Luna and Gael García Bernal in Rudo y Cursi
Somehow, it’s been seven years since Gael García Bernal and Diego
Luna were two sides of a gorgeous love triangle in Alfonso Cuarón’s
Y Tu Mama Tambien. Y Tu Mama was written by Alfonso
Cuarón and his little brother Carlos, who now directs Rudo y
Cursi, a film that comes with a burden of expectation that’s
not all due to the presence of its stars. The film’s producers include
that glowing trinity of Mexican filmmaking: the elder Cuarón, Guillermo
del Toro and Alejandro González Iñárritu. Plus, it involves football
(it would be wrong to call it soccer in this context). What could
go wrong?
Well, plenty. Rudo y Cursi roughly translates to “tough
and corny,” and as many a viewer has already pointed out, the film
has too much of the latter. It’s a soapy story about the price of
fame that comes liberally doused in cheesy metaphors about sport
and life, most of which are delivered in voiceover by Guillermo
Francella, who sounds slightly amused by what he’s being asked to
say. Francella plays Batuta, a football scout who claims a great
love of the game but isn’t above threatening coaches when they don’t
put in his players in. In a small village, he finds Beto (Luna)
and Tato (García Bernal), half brothers who work at a banana farm
and play football on a local dirt field. Beto already has his nickname,
Rudo, on account of his aggression. Tato is dubbed Cursi after Batuta
takes him to Mexico City and gets him on a team; Tato’s play is
a bit goofy, apparently, though all we really see of it is his post-goal
ritual. For whatever reason (a comment in the production notes suggests
García Bernal isn’t much of a footballer), Rudo y Cursi skimps
on actual game play, which leaches the story of some of its passion.
Getting on a team is a dream come true for Beto when Batuta summons
him to the city. Like Tato, he finds football success, but where
Tato would rather be a famous singer (a limelight-lover, he also
dates a famous TV personality), Beto can’t stop gambling. For the
most part, Rudo y Cursi treads familiar narrative ground,
its undisciplined characters the victims of their own personalities
and desires. They’re believable fuckups but not particularly sympathetic
ones, and their cinematic plight is an off-balance mix of occasionally
comic and, as the film progresses, increasingly dangerous. Naturally,
everything comes to a head in the film’s final game, a fraternal
clash that outshines the rest of the film. Finally, the game itself
means something to the story; whatever happens, the crashing arcs
of Beto and Tato’s stories will find some kind of resolution. Rudo
y Cursi isn’t an uplifting sports movie any more than it’s a
realistic slice-of-life film; it treads strangely, slightly awkwardly,
in the middle ground. Is it dismissive of a small town kid’s big
dreams, or is Cuarón suggesting that if you try to live doing something
that’s not your passion, it’s all going to go dramatically wrong?