QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN

IThis 99-minute story begins with a David versus Goliath duel. Fifty-something-year-old Olga (Teresita Sánchez) battles a buzzing fly that interrupted her solitary and eventful existence inside a small flat overlooking a large Mexican city. She opens the window, but the insect refuses to leave. She attempts to kill it with bug spray, yet repeatedly fails in her efforts. Soon she has to contend with two two much larger invaders.

Tulio (Hugo Ramirez) and his pesky 10-year-oldish son Cristian (Bastian Escobar) rent a room in Olga’s place so that they can stay close to the boy’s mother Estela, who is receiving chemotherapy in a nearby hospital. Olga does not appreciate their company, however she needs the money in order to pay for an ingrown toenail surgery, She orders them to move out after she realises that their hygiene is well below her standards: Cristian urinates in a bottle, and a rotten banana is to be found behind their bed. Cash convinces her to extend their stay for a few more days. Then Tulio inexplicably disappears, leaving the child protagonist to fend for himself. Olga is not impressed: she forbids him from using the communal areas of the flat, playing with a ping pong ball inside his own bedroom, or even watching television

Cristian sets out to locate his mother. The problem is that he doesn’t know her bed number, plus children are not allowed into the hospital at all. He repeatedly fails at his attempts to dodge security and enter the forbidden building. At least he finds comfort in a pocket video game that his father gave him, and a large arcade machine. He is obsessed with playing Cosmic Invaders (a reference to the seminal video game Space Invaders). He shoots the spaceships (which resemble the titular flies) with the precision of a skilled hunter. Nobody can beat him. The knowledge that his mother’s body has been taken over by similar invaders helps to stir his determination to win. It turns out that Olga too also a passion for playing, and so she connects with the boy whom she previously despised.

The topic of a hesitant older woman bonding with a cheeky boy on his own, and helping him to locate a relative and/or repurpose his life is a recurring one in cinema. Examples include John Cassavetes’s Gloria (1980) and Walter Salles’s Central Station (1998) – the latter film won the Golden Bear, the top prize at the Berlinale. Flies injects a twist of magical realism into the proceedings: the lights of high rise council flats emulate the game, and Cristian magically enters the arcade machine. These are some of the film’s most beautiful moments. A touch of melancholia (sparse dialogues, and the monochromatic colour palettte) also helps to distinguish this Mexican drama from the two movies mentioned above.

Multi-Oscar winner Roma (Alfonso Cuaron, 2019) also comes to mind because of the sharp black-and-white photography, long and static takes, and the realist-ish portrait of working class and lonely Mexicans.

While heartwarming and pleasant to watch, with interesting metaphors and allegories, Flies lacks depth. The developments feel contrived, and the change in the relationship of the two protagonists is too abrupt and awkward. Olga’s attitude towards Cristian suddenly morphs from repulsion to adoration. The script lacks pace and subtlety. The performances are auspicious however unmemorable. This is neither Cassavetes nor Salles.

Flies just premiered in the Official Competition of the 76th Berlinale.