Complaining about Movies

This week I saw Mejor Es Que Gabriela No Se Muera, an inventively absurd flick that generated more laughs than any Mexican film I'd seen in years.

However, like so many movies to set in Mexico City, it barely avoids drowning in its own seriousness. Such movies can't keep from draping themselves in the suffocating intensity of life in the world's second biggest metropolis, even when it adds nothing to the picture, as is the case with Mejor Es Que Gabriela No Se Muera. The depressing backdrop worked really well in Amores Perros (or maybe it's just that that was the first of these movies that I saw), but after watching Sexo, Pudor y Lágrimas, Fuera del Cielo, Búfalo de la Noche, Así del Precipicio, Batalla en el Cielo, Párpados Azules, frankly there's nothing left to say about it. Filmmakers of Mexico City: I get it, life in your town is tough! Stop already! And it's not just that I've seen the idea many, many times; it's also totally unconvincing. Happiness and laughter are a fact of life just as much as depression, even in Mexico City.