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— by Carl Davis
Texas native and "Sin City" co-director Robert Rodriguez didn't merely kick-start an indie film revolution with his $7,000, hand-made 1992 smash, "El Mariachi." He also helped open the eyes of many in the English-speaking world (and the United States, especially) to the work of Spanish-language filmmakers from Mexico, Central and South America, Spain and, yes, even the U.S. Like Pedro Almodóvar — who is widely considered the most important Spanish director after the late, great surrealist, Luis Buñel — Rodriguez's unique moviemaking style and dynamic personality won him the kind of exposure and praise that invariably inspires peers to make their own highly personalized films. Over the last 15 years, a number of high-profile directors and their Spanish language films have captivated audiences, garnered awards and fostered a genuine artistic movement. Here's just a sampling of what critics and fans have come to call the new Spanish New Wave.
 Walter Salles — "The Motorcycle Diaries" (2004)
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Brazilian director Walter Salles' film could easily have been called "A Portrait of the Revolutionary as a Young Man." Adapted from the journals of 23-year-old med student Ernesto Guevara, before he was beloved and reviled around the world as "Che," the film follows Guevara and his traveling companion, Alberto Granado, as they travel the South American continent on a secondhand bike. As with all great road movies, it's always about the journey, never the destination, and sure enough, somewhere along the way the two men discover themselves.
Fernando Meirelles — "City of God" (2002)
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Cidade de Deus is an actual place, a government housing project built just outside of Rio de Janeiro, only miles from some of the city's most popular tourist spots. It's also the setting for a true tale of poverty, crime, gangs, drugs, wealth and murder. "City of God" chronicles the decade-long rise and fall of a local gang called the Tender Trio, with a plot that's almost Shakespearean in its emphasis on double-crosses, tragedy and revenge. Meirelles sinks his teeth into the dark subject matter, and delivers a bravura piece of filmmaking that leaves you wanting more.
Álex de la Iglesia — "800 Bullets" (2002)
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A follow-up to Álex de la Iglesia's pitch-black comedy, "Dying of Laughter" (1999), this is decidedly lighter fare, but still bears the stamp of a gifted filmmaker. If nothing else, Iglesia's work always illustrates his sheer love of film, and this twisted tribute to the spaghetti western is no exception. Following the young and spoiled Carlos as he sets out to find his estranged grandfather (Clint Eastwood's former stunt double) and learn the truth about his father's death, the film reveals a weird, wonderful world, but one in which family still matters most of all.
Guillermo del Toro — "The Devil's Backbone" (2001)
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Mexican filmmaker Guillermo del Toro became a horror icon with the one-two punch of his debut, "Cronos" (1993), and its follow-up, "Mimic" (1997). For his third film, he opted to make a period piece — a "horror" period piece. Set during the Spanish Civil War, the young Carlos is forced to seek refuge in an old orphanage and learns its dark secrets. Rumors swirl about a hidden cache of gold; an unexploded bomb sits in the middle of the sun-baked courtyard; and all the children whisper about "the one who sighs." Del Toro never relents on the tension, and by the end of the movie you'll be asking, "What is a ghost, anyway?"
Alfonso Cuarón — "Y Tu Mamá También" (2001)
Alfonso Cuarón's coming-of-age film was a box office sensation in his native Mexico, but caused a different stir north of the border. Apparently his frank portrayal of two young men, Julio and Tenoch, and their seduction of (and by) an older woman was a bit too controversial for some folks in el Norte. Perhaps it's that the film's documentarylike approach makes the very high highs and abysmal lows seem all too real. His camera is unflinching, even as the friends' relationship threatens to tear itself apart. Cuarón has called New York home for some time, and most recently scored a major hit with "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."
Alejendro Gonzalez Inarritu — "Amores Perros" (2000)
Translated literally as "Love is a bitch," Alejendro Gonzalez Inarritu's debut film is an inventive, exhilarating thriller that rivals Tarantino's "Reservoir Dogs" in the complexity of its structure and the incisiveness of its commentary on the human condition. Set against the blistering backdrop of contemporary Mexico City, Inaritu weaves three apparently disparate tales of love and loss into one cohesive, tragic whole. From gutter dogfights to boardroom backstabbings, he shows us the lengths to which any of us might go to love and be loved in kind.
Alejandro Amenábar — "Abre Los Ojos" (1997)
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Spaniard Amenábar's breakout feature became the basis for Cameron Crowe's "Vanilla Sky." But where the latter was a muddled Tom Cruise vehicle, "Abre Los Ojos" is an amazingly complex and taut psychological thriller. Cesar is young, handsome and successful, until a former lover nearly takes his life in a murder-suicide attempt, leaving him a disfigured monster overwhelmed by the deeper ugliness that has been lurking inside him all along. While the film's foray into the realm of sci-fi might require too great a suspension of disbelief from some viewers, it's still daring, fearless filmmaking. After all, it got Tom's attention.
Robert Rodriguez — "Desperado" (1995)
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Rodriguez ups the sex-and-violence ante with this comparatively high-budget sequel/remake of his influential low-fi debut, "El Mariachi." With Antonio Banderas playing the titular musician/assassin and Salma Hayek as his reluctant accomplice, the storyline follows El Mariachi as he blasts his way through the criminal scum who control a small border town, exacting revenge on the drug lord who robbed him of both his lover and his ability to play the guitar. Sadly, the series' third installment, "Once Upon a Time in Mexico," doesn't hold a candle to either of the first two.
Pedro Almodóvar — "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" (1988) & "Talk to Her" (2002)
Spanish director Almodóvar's breakthrough film, "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown," is a delightful farce, full of his trademark oddball characters and bizarre situations and plot devices, including suicidal actresses, Shi'ite terrorists, burning beds, spiked soup and, of course, Antonio Banderas. The film was a wake-up call for the non-Spanish-speaking world to take notice — a call that was answered when Almodóvar won an Oscar for "Talk to Her," his offbeat drama about two nonexistent relationships. Benigno, a male nurse, and Marco, a writer, form a close friendship as each man pines for a different woman, each of whom is languishing in a coma. The twist is that neither man had a relationship with either woman; each is therefore left to extrapolate a whole relationship on his own, one with guilt as its base, the other with mental illness. As touching as it is creepy, the film asks more questions than it answers: And that's definitely a good thing.
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Photos: Columbia Pictures
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