In the new Argentine film The Secret in Their Eyes, cinematographer Félix Monti often composes shots of frames within frames and separate rooms sharing the same space, reflecting layers of worn memories and the fickle nature of perception. It's an apt visual strategy, echoing the mindset of the film's protagonist, Benjamin Esposito, a retired federal justice agent reminiscing on the haunting rape-murder case that is the basis for his debut novel.
These are also fitting shots for a film that often isn't entirely sure what it is. At any given moment, Eyes, which is directed by Juan José Campanella and recently won the Academy Award over the favored White Ribbon, could be described as an epic romance bereft of intimacy, a crime procedural short on thrills, or a character study lacking focus. It is at once stricken with immense grief and given to flights of romantic and comedic levity. And yet, the film remains an inscrutably engaging drama, anchored by a handful of detailed characters that wade through Campanella's gloomy narrative.
Esposito, who is played by the great Argentine actor Ricardo Darin, is the most prominent of these lost souls, but he is very nearly matched by Irene Menéndez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his new boss. They are introduced not long before Esposito is asked to take point on the rape and murder of a young schoolteacher and becomes entangled in a massive imbroglio involving Romano, a racist co-worker who pins the whole mess on a pair of black day laborers after beating a confession out of them.
Like almost every action in Campanella's film, the bitter feud between Esposito and Romano returns as Esposito tracks the teacher's real killer and develops a kinship with her widowed husband Ricardo (Pablo Rago). This game of cat and mouse reaches its climactic hilt with a riveting chase through a soccer stadium, sparked by a theory from Esposito's wise drunkard of an assistant (a very good Guillermo Francella), and the subsequent interrogation of a suspect (Javier Godino) by Irene.
Campanella cuts the fallout of the killer's arrest, which coincides with a great period of political turmoil in Argentina and the thick miasma of corruption that accompanied it, with the elderly Esposito traversing Buenos Aires to elicit opinions on his novel, rummaging through the faded thoughts of others. Like the detectives and journalists of Zodiac, Esposito is unable to see past his inability to fully comprehend the crime; he seeks in justice the clarity that he cannot afford himself romantically with Irene.
At a little over two hours, Campanella's film meanders at time, and there is more than one moment where the script, co-written by the director and Eduardo Sacheri, feels a bit obvious, if not long-winded. But as much as Campanella's lack of sure footing in any specific genre makes for an unstable sense of tone, it also serves as a marker of the director's immense ambition. Campanella does not have the aesthetic boldness of Lucrecia Martel or Lucia Puenzo, but he edits and shoots Eyes with a rich, breathless sweep that suggests a kind of technical mastery and a devoted love for the art-house films of the 1950s.
Aka El secreto de sus ojos.
These are also fitting shots for a film that often isn't entirely sure what it is. At any given moment, Eyes, which is directed by Juan José Campanella and recently won the Academy Award over the favored White Ribbon, could be described as an epic romance bereft of intimacy, a crime procedural short on thrills, or a character study lacking focus. It is at once stricken with immense grief and given to flights of romantic and comedic levity. And yet, the film remains an inscrutably engaging drama, anchored by a handful of detailed characters that wade through Campanella's gloomy narrative.
Esposito, who is played by the great Argentine actor Ricardo Darin, is the most prominent of these lost souls, but he is very nearly matched by Irene Menéndez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his new boss. They are introduced not long before Esposito is asked to take point on the rape and murder of a young schoolteacher and becomes entangled in a massive imbroglio involving Romano, a racist co-worker who pins the whole mess on a pair of black day laborers after beating a confession out of them.
Like almost every action in Campanella's film, the bitter feud between Esposito and Romano returns as Esposito tracks the teacher's real killer and develops a kinship with her widowed husband Ricardo (Pablo Rago). This game of cat and mouse reaches its climactic hilt with a riveting chase through a soccer stadium, sparked by a theory from Esposito's wise drunkard of an assistant (a very good Guillermo Francella), and the subsequent interrogation of a suspect (Javier Godino) by Irene.
Campanella cuts the fallout of the killer's arrest, which coincides with a great period of political turmoil in Argentina and the thick miasma of corruption that accompanied it, with the elderly Esposito traversing Buenos Aires to elicit opinions on his novel, rummaging through the faded thoughts of others. Like the detectives and journalists of Zodiac, Esposito is unable to see past his inability to fully comprehend the crime; he seeks in justice the clarity that he cannot afford himself romantically with Irene.
At a little over two hours, Campanella's film meanders at time, and there is more than one moment where the script, co-written by the director and Eduardo Sacheri, feels a bit obvious, if not long-winded. But as much as Campanella's lack of sure footing in any specific genre makes for an unstable sense of tone, it also serves as a marker of the director's immense ambition. Campanella does not have the aesthetic boldness of Lucrecia Martel or Lucia Puenzo, but he edits and shoots Eyes with a rich, breathless sweep that suggests a kind of technical mastery and a devoted love for the art-house films of the 1950s.
Aka El secreto de sus ojos.
