Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Matando Cabos


The majority of my early knowledge of Mexican culture I absorbed via osmosis during four years sleeping through my required Spanish classes in high school. Since those days my connection with the entertainment released south of our borders has been sporadic at best. I've had Tejano music forced upon me by my neighbors and coworkers, been known to enjoy the occasional Cantinflas film, watched hours of high-flying luchadors, and seen far more episodes of "Sabado Gigante" than any other gringo I know. So when the Spanish language film "Matando Cabos" ("Killing Cabos") arrived in my mailbox, I assumed it would be full of adults in ill-fitting clothes pretending to be children, while men in brightly sequined masks preformed gymnastics in the background. Eventually, they would all collide into a heap, and a slender man with a pencil-thin moustache would emerge and double-talk his way out of the escalating situation. Imagine my surprise when "Matando Cabos" bucked all my expectations and proved to be one of the best heist films since "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" and the Mexican answer to Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction."

To try and summarize the plot of "Matando Cabos" would be an exercise in futility. Not because it's too confusing or unworthy of discussion; it's just that there is so much going on, and half the fun is watching it all unfold. Just believe me when I say this isn't your average heist film. Sure, it's got the mistaken identity angle that's been run into the ground by every sitcom since the dawn of television. It's got the car-chase scene and the hot sex scenes legally required by the W.C.A.M (World Council of Action Movies). What sets "Cabos" apart from every other action film that uses these run-of-the-mill clichés are the twists director Alejandro Lozano and screenwriters Tony Dalton and Kristoff put on them.

For the first time ever the corny and overused mistaken-identity angle works magnificently, hilariously, and it doesn't feel forced. While the car chase actually seems to slow the film down, it's mostly due to the break from the fast-paced dialogue, and the eventual end of the chase is a sight to behold. How often does one get to see a sedan wipe out the front section of a soccer stadium? As far as the sex scenes go, while an early glimpse of main character Javier (Dalton) in bed with his fiancée Paulina (Ana Claudia Talancon) was spicier than a plate of habanaros, most of the other sex scenes feature a different couple entirely. It's Paulina's distinguished mother Gabriella (Jacqueline Voltaire) in all matter of positions with a four-and-half-foot tall mute sporting razor-sharp teeth and named Tony the Cannibal (Silverio Palacios). Then throw in Tony's employer, Mascarita (Joaquin Cosio), a disgraced, drug-addled ex-Luchador, whose former popularity in Mexico rivaled America's Hulk Hogan, who slips in and out of drug-induced flashbacks to his prior days of glory. And add a little finger chopping, a bar full of angry soccer players looking for blood, hostage abuse, sexy janitor fantasies, and that barely scratches the surface of "Matando Cabos." After all, I didn't even mention the great musical number.

The majority of my early knowledge of Mexican culture I absorbed via osmosis during four years sleeping through my required Spanish classes in high school. Since those days my connection with the entertainment released south of our borders has been sporadic at best. I've had Tejano music forced upon me by my neighbors and coworkers, been known to enjoy the occasional Cantinflas film, watched hours of high-flying luchadors, and seen far more episodes of "Sabado Gigante" than any other gringo I know. So when the Spanish language film "Matando Cabos" ("Killing Cabos") arrived in my mailbox, I assumed it would be full of adults in ill-fitting clothes pretending to be children, while men in brightly sequined masks preformed gymnastics in the background. Eventually, they would all collide into a heap, and a slender man with a pencil-thin moustache would emerge and double-talk his way out of the escalating situation. Imagine my surprise when "Matando Cabos" bucked all my expectations and proved to be one of the best heist films since "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" and the Mexican answer to Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction."

To try and summarize the plot of "Matando Cabos" would be an exercise in futility. Not because it's too confusing or unworthy of discussion; it's just that there is so much going on, and half the fun is watching it all unfold. Just believe me when I say this isn't your average heist film. Sure, it's got the mistaken identity angle that's been run into the ground by every sitcom since the dawn of television. It's got the car-chase scene and the hot sex scenes legally required by the W.C.A.M (World Council of Action Movies). What sets "Cabos" apart from every other action film that uses these run-of-the-mill clichés are the twists director Alejandro Lozano and screenwriters Tony Dalton and Kristoff put on them.

For the first time ever the corny and overused mistaken-identity angle works magnificently, hilariously, and it doesn't feel forced. While the car chase actually seems to slow the film down, it's mostly due to the break from the fast-paced dialogue, and the eventual end of the chase is a sight to behold. How often does one get to see a sedan wipe out the front section of a soccer stadium? As far as the sex scenes go, while an early glimpse of main character Javier (Dalton) in bed with his fiancée Paulina (Ana Claudia Talancon) was spicier than a plate of habanaros, most of the other sex scenes feature a different couple entirely. It's Paulina's distinguished mother Gabriella (Jacqueline Voltaire) in all matter of positions with a four-and-half-foot tall mute sporting razor-sharp teeth and named Tony the Cannibal (Silverio Palacios). Then throw in Tony's employer, Mascarita (Joaquin Cosio), a disgraced, drug-addled ex-Luchador, whose former popularity in Mexico rivaled America's Hulk Hogan, who slips in and out of drug-induced flashbacks to his prior days of glory. And add a little finger chopping, a bar full of angry soccer players looking for blood, hostage abuse, sexy janitor fantasies, and that barely scratches the surface of "Matando Cabos." After all, I didn't even mention the great musical number.

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