Caníbal (2013)
Though it shares its subject matter with countless horror films, Manuel Martín Cuenca's Caníbal is not a genre exercise but, as its advertising suggests, a dark love story. Almost entirely lacking the expected violence of a film with its title, Caníbal is instead animated by the viewer's nervous anticipation of the title character's next move. Overcome by the fear of what might happen next, the middle-aged couple seated behind me during a recent screening at the Walter Reade Theater considered bailing out midway through the film. That they didn't is testament to the compelling script by Humberto Arenal, Alejandro Hernández, and Rafael de la Uz, which is based on Arenal's novel of the same title, and Cuenca's assured direction.
Though not what one might expect from its title, Caníbal does indeed profile a connoisseur of human flesh. Carlos (Antonio de la Torre) is a skilled tailor with a shop in the historic Old Town area of Seville, whose community-minded residents devoutly practice long-observed rites of Catholicism. Carlos also owns a cabin high in the snow-covered Sierra Nevada mountains where he takes the bodies of young women he has murdered and renders them into cellophane-wrapped cutlets to stock his refrigerator back home.
The gentlemen of Seville revere Carlos for his bespoke suits, made with only the finest wool and expertly tailored. A socially awkward bachelor, Carlos spends his non-work hours attending church services, playing bingo with elderly widow Aurora (Maria Alfonsa Rosso), or stalking and killing his next victim. His nightly meal is a human steak, served rare sans any accompaniment save a glass of red wine. Carlos, you see, is a carnivore's carnivore, and in one darkly humorous scene appears queasy after being served a vegetarian dinner.
After Carlos' attractive Romanian immigrant neighbor Alexandra (Olimpia Melinte) goes missing, her twin sister Nina (also Melinte) begs him to help with her search. Unlike her sexually impetuous sister, Nina is charming, demure, and in dire need of assistance. Against her sincerity and warmth, Carlos' stony reserve gradually begins to crumble and an unwieldy relationship develops between them. Carlos suggests that they visit his cabin in the mountains.
Through its deliberate - those with no patience for the films of, say, Chantal Akerman would say "slow" - pacing and scrupulous attention to detail, Caníbal meticulously tracks the gradual changes in Carlos' routine once Nina enters his life. For despite his monstrous acts, the lonely tailor is nevertheless susceptible to the same emotions as those he eats. In a perverse reversal of the ritual of the Christian sacrament, where parishioners eat the symbolic body of Christ in a demonstration of their devotion to God, Carlos consumes the bodies of those who sexually excite him. Cuenca's unsettling film, then, is ultimately about the mysteries that lie within the chasm between sexual desire and love.
Because of its emphasis on the subtle shifts in Carlos' character, Caníbal relies greatly on its lead performer. Fortunately, de la Torre delivers a winning performance as the seemingly run-of-the-mill introvert whose blank, banal demeanor masks a wellspring of evil. A veteran of Pedro Almadovar comedies, as is Alfonsa Rosso as his sole friend, de la Torra nails this crucial role. Given the often-disastrous assignment of portraying twins, Romanian actress Olimpia Melinte also makes the most of her dual roles.
Nominated for eight Goya Awards, Caníbal won for its noir-ish camera work from up-and-coming director of photography Pau Esteve Birba, who was also awarded the Jury Prize for Best Cinematography at the 2013 San Sebastián film festival. Film Movement has purchased U.S. distribution rights for theatrical and home video release later this year. For those who can't wait, Caníbal is currently available in Spanish with English subtitles on Region 2 DVD and Region B Blu-ray from amazon.es.
The gentlemen of Seville revere Carlos for his bespoke suits, made with only the finest wool and expertly tailored. A socially awkward bachelor, Carlos spends his non-work hours attending church services, playing bingo with elderly widow Aurora (Maria Alfonsa Rosso), or stalking and killing his next victim. His nightly meal is a human steak, served rare sans any accompaniment save a glass of red wine. Carlos, you see, is a carnivore's carnivore, and in one darkly humorous scene appears queasy after being served a vegetarian dinner.
After Carlos' attractive Romanian immigrant neighbor Alexandra (Olimpia Melinte) goes missing, her twin sister Nina (also Melinte) begs him to help with her search. Unlike her sexually impetuous sister, Nina is charming, demure, and in dire need of assistance. Against her sincerity and warmth, Carlos' stony reserve gradually begins to crumble and an unwieldy relationship develops between them. Carlos suggests that they visit his cabin in the mountains.
Through its deliberate - those with no patience for the films of, say, Chantal Akerman would say "slow" - pacing and scrupulous attention to detail, Caníbal meticulously tracks the gradual changes in Carlos' routine once Nina enters his life. For despite his monstrous acts, the lonely tailor is nevertheless susceptible to the same emotions as those he eats. In a perverse reversal of the ritual of the Christian sacrament, where parishioners eat the symbolic body of Christ in a demonstration of their devotion to God, Carlos consumes the bodies of those who sexually excite him. Cuenca's unsettling film, then, is ultimately about the mysteries that lie within the chasm between sexual desire and love.
Because of its emphasis on the subtle shifts in Carlos' character, Caníbal relies greatly on its lead performer. Fortunately, de la Torre delivers a winning performance as the seemingly run-of-the-mill introvert whose blank, banal demeanor masks a wellspring of evil. A veteran of Pedro Almadovar comedies, as is Alfonsa Rosso as his sole friend, de la Torra nails this crucial role. Given the often-disastrous assignment of portraying twins, Romanian actress Olimpia Melinte also makes the most of her dual roles.
Nominated for eight Goya Awards, Caníbal won for its noir-ish camera work from up-and-coming director of photography Pau Esteve Birba, who was also awarded the Jury Prize for Best Cinematography at the 2013 San Sebastián film festival. Film Movement has purchased U.S. distribution rights for theatrical and home video release later this year. For those who can't wait, Caníbal is currently available in Spanish with English subtitles on Region 2 DVD and Region B Blu-ray from amazon.es.