"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Y tu Luna también: Carambola (2003)

While this isn’t particularly my kind of movie, I appreciate it for what it does, and it has its entertaining parts. I also enjoy when a story takes a deep dive into a world I know very little about, even if the actual subject is one that doesn’t interest me all that much.

Professional hustler El Vago (the English subtitles call him Slick) has just won a billiard hall betting on a game, but running an establishment like that isn’t exactly what he expected. While he was hoping for an easygoing time playing billiards for free, things are hectic between the irresponsible kid he hires to manage the place and the general public’s desire for a trendy pool hall over a sophisticated billiards place. (I’d always thought “billiards” was just a fancy/old-fashioned word for pool, but the film shows that they’re two very different games, with different rules and played on different tables.)

Okay, so if you’re like me and not in the know, billiards is played on tables without pockets, so rather than sinking balls, points are earned by striking a certain number of balls after first hitting a certain number of sides of the table. It appears that there’s even more math involved than there is in pool, which I’m already not good at, so I don’t think I’d have much of a chance at billiards. But Vago and his friends are deeply devoted to the sport, as is the film; the narrative is interspersed with clips from a demonstration video Vago is making, showing various types of shots and techniques.

Naturally, this devotion puts Vago at odds with most of his customers, rowdy “little shits” who are just there to mess around at his pool tables and have some fun. We have plenty of shots of Vago and his billiard buddies scowling over the raucous atmosphere or seething over some inconsiderate kid who messes up their shot. “Didn’t there used to be a billiard hall here?” one old pro asks. Another drawls back, “Not anymore, your majesty. Now it’s a kiddie-disco.”

That’s where the central conflict comes in, Vago clinging to his love for an elite sport while forced to pander to what he considers a lowbrow one in order to make money, but there are a number of other minor plots woven somewhat casually into the narrative. There’s the old pros intimating that Vago is losing his touch and that running the billiard hall has made him soft. There’s La Pájara (a.k.a. Pigeon,) one of the only women in the movie and so naturally a Cool Girl in a love triangle between Vago and his shiftless manager El Perro (a.k.a. Mutt.) There’s Vago’s ongoing health issues and Perro’s habit of making absolutely everyone angry with him, not to mention Vago’s ongoing quest to make his billiards demonstration film.

Other than Diego Luna, I’m not familiar with anyone in the cast, but everybody does nice work. As Vago, Daniel Martinez makes for a good disaffected indie lead, simultaneously Too Old for This Shit and Trying to Prove He’s Not Out of the Game. Laura Hidalgo does what she can with Pájara, and Jesús Ochoa is effectively intimidating as her father/the billiard hall’s former owner El Mexicano (a.k.a. Mex.)

Luna plays Perro, a young good-for-nothing who constantly talks a big game that he’s completely unable to back up. The second Vago wins ownership of the billiard hall, Perro starts working on him. “I’ll buy the place and save you the hassle,” he suggests, making plans for a remodel with a fresher, hipper ambiance. When Vago refuses, he immediately pivots to, “Then make me your manager and I’ll handle everything.”

Unsurprisingly, this is nothing but a headache for Vago. Perro loves to make claims and promises, but he doesn’t come through on anything. The remodel-on-a-budget that he promises quickly balloons out of control, the books are a mess under his inattentive eye, and he’s forever walking away from serious talks with Vago to go to the bathroom (i.e. snort coke.) He can’t even bring Vago coffee without spilling it on him and adding salt instead of sugar.

Perro might bring the most aggravation to Vago, but he has plenty to spread around. He constitutes the most dickish side of the love triangle, dating Pájara while messing around quite literally behind her back. He owes money to basically everyone, and Vago’s friends frequently point out how useless Perro is. All of this is painted very broadly by the script, and Luna commits to the part. In his hands, Perro keeps getting chances he definitely doesn’t deserve, letting people down and then shrugging as he explains why it’s not his fault.

Recommend?

In General – Maybe. It’s a decent film, and while the story can meander quite a bit, I like how things come together in the third act.

Diego Luna – A soft maybe. Though it’s not a demanding performance, Luna plays it well.

Warnings

Sexual content, language, violence, drinking/smoking/drug use, and some gross-out humor.

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