“Malpaso“—a narrative I didn’t know I needed, and imagery I won’t soon forget.

The immediate sense of tension and despair in the twins’ grandfather’s expression as he watched their mother lie motionless on the birthing table in the same position she was in while giving birth. The tiling shot of her body from her feet, past her womb, to her face, was all the audience needed to understand the narrative’s tone. A resounding silence. A powerful introduction.

“Malpaso” is a beautifully-captured narrative of a relationship between fraternal twin brothers Cándido (played by Ariel Díaz) and Braulio (played by Luis Bryan Mesa) navigating life at the border of two countries on the Caribbean island of Hispaniola. The grace and camaraderie shared between the brothers was beautiful. Cándido has albinism and his grandfather forbids him from joining in on his treks to the border market with his brother. This tension carries on until the abrupt passing of their guardian, leaving the twins to survive on their owns.

I appreciate arthouse films like this because they’re usually immersive, and I completely forget that I’m watching actors on the screen. I adore films that explore a conflict in a social context with such specificity. For example, characters constantly switched between the Spanish and Creole languages for what seemed to be a code-switching mechanism in power dynamic situations. I was immediately wondering about the relationship between the director, cinematographer, actors and sound teams on the ground. I was thinking about editing in post-production. Like, the art was so damn good that I wanted to know about the cameras they used and why…all the mundane intricacies of the storyboarding process. Everything. I’m obsessed with details and logistics for art that connects me to a setting I’m not used to seeing in popularized media.

The music was stunning, and subtle. I haven’t heard guitars toned down as much as they were in this film in quite some time. It was specific in its subtlety, and I really wish I could articulate how and why I thought it was so well done. It reminded me of how directors of those avant-garde French films from the 1960s would ask Miles Davis to come in and freestyle on his trumpet as he watched a film of say a blond woman leisurely walking down the Champs-Élysées. And because the score was used so infrequently in this film, I wonder what that sound and music editing process was like. 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

Favorite scene:

After their grandfather passes away, Braulio and Cándido headed to the border market to sell their mule, Cándido’s first visit. It was an overstimulating experience, though he’d dreamed of joining his family to the border for his whole life.

The market scenes were shot with such precision. I can tell the director and cinematographer were working in tandem this day because they captured the uncomfortable emotion in Cándido’s eyes. He was the market’s pariah. Cándido was badgered and ridiculed. The cinematographer captured his fears exquisitely.

The close-up zoom into Cándido’s nervous face, and the quick cuts to different people around the market, added to the lack of comfortability and increased tension of his surroundings. The environment seemed warped, shrunken, and claustrophobicw, and almost like I was there with Cándido.