1. i open with a quote from schopenhauer: the story of a life is always the story of suffering.

2. it’s no surprise that carlos reygadas has referred to this film as his “problem child”, that is, something that generally questions established values and does (or wants to do) the opposite of what is expected. it rebels, revolts — with no subtlety.

3. the fight against cliché is the clearest aspect of this film. it refuses, from its first moments, to engage in the business of entertainment. it rejects the structure, the mechanisms, the winning formula of hollywood movies — even the low-budget ones. it offers us a different notion of pacing (boredom makes us notice time, distraction avoids it — schopenhauer, again), of taste, and of beauty.

4. it shows us bodies that diverge from the norms that dominate institutional cinema. reygadas has said that this approach is not meant to provoke, that he merely wants to show beauty in all its multiplicity. but to show bodies that do not correspond to predominant discourses and, for that reason, are absent from their narratives, is a provocation. it is also a double assertion: by including in this film bodies that normally go unrepresented, and by celebrating bodies that reflect, more faithfully, the diversity of the Mexican population.

5. the viewer would like to see themselves represented — in film and in other forms of art. however, the representation they are met with is, for the most part, a lie. do they want to see themselves portrayed faithfully or in the best possible light? because the best possible light is a norm that has been imposed on them — unreal, idealised. when they find themselves confronted with what are, supposedly, their defects, won’t they reject that portrayal, since that image fails to correspond to the body they have learnt to value?

6. there are people who, when they drink, get annoyed if we do not drink with them, because we won’t reflect their state. in politics, something similar happens: the ongoing presence in this world of totalitarians reflects a desire to see someone in power who reflects our ideas, who legitimises our idealism. the totalitarian wants to force others to be like them, to (not) feel what they (do not) feel, so that they feel less alone. they seek comfort, stability — a fallacy, non-existent. to reject change is to bow to fear, to choose a more or less bearable misery. and, if it is impossible to convert others to their way of being, the totalitarian kills — literally and metaphorically — those who embrace the impermanence of things, fragility, ambiguity, the unexpected. they kill because they want to see in the other the fear that they (do not) feel. on feeling ignored, invisible, they impose their invisibility on the other: they kill — literally and metaphorically. they feel alone, the totalitarian. and solitude is the greatest despair.

7. so, sadism has a simple explanation: we want to hurt others because we feel hurt ourselves. how many of us do not experience this every day? the violence, the humiliation are so degrading that, in truth, there is no option other than to feel oppressed, diminished, erased. oppression emerges from the fear of chaos — and chaos is ever present. i feel abused by corruption, by power, and so i resist. and resistance only generates, in the other, a greater desire to oppress. i do not give in to what he feels, to what he wants me to feel: fear, loneliness, pain, absence. unfortunately, empathy falters and i do not know if it can be taught. and sociopathy has become the final refuge — in reality and in fiction — for escaping the cycle of hopelessness. thus the fascination for true crime, for delinquency, and the lack of connection to our feelings.

8. one way of escaping loneliness is to create communities. but in a sick society, these can turn into superstructures that only highlight the abyss that divides them: religion, football, war, nationalism. there are always other countries, other gods, other clubs and armed forces. the despair is so great that communities become cults — they become form without content. the abyss only accentuates the loneliness: being alone in the middle of a crowd, being invisible in an overpopulated world.

9. reygadas asks of his country that it — and all others — be brave, that it not enter into the lie nor allow itself to succumb, that, instead of turning against itself and disguising itself as something it is not, it take responsibility and grow to love its supposed deformities. it is a provocation, a critique, an appeal. but reality is crushing, reygadas, and, thus, difficult to love.

10. reygadas says he loves his actors and characters. perhaps that is why he has filmed them in such a way as to show us that, if some god exists, he does not love anything. there is no one to protect them (or us) from evil — far from it. to descend into hell is to see reality clearly. the battle of heaven resulted in hell — a place we are familiar with, because we are born, live and die in it.

11. and, despite seeking to ask questions, without wanting to give answers, reygadas turns the former into the latter — and the reverse, too — exposing them, returning to us our emptiness.

12. i close with a citation from Schopenhauer: every individual misfortune always appears to be an exception; but general misfortune is the rule.