THE
THREE BURIALS OF MELQUIADES ESTRADA
By TODD McCARTHY
Variety, 5/23/05
 From
its palpable rapport with the rugged Tex-Mex landscape to its simultaneously
jaundiced and generous view of the human condition, "The Three
Burials of Melquiades Estrada" looks and feels like the best
Sam Peckinpah movie since the late maverick himself ventured south
of the border.
Tommy Lee Jones' bracing bigscreen directorial debut, which copped
acting and writing awards from the Cannes Film Festival jury, connects
with both the head and the heart. Critical
acclaim will guarantee interest among smart specialized audiences,
but it will take a masterful campaign by a committed distrib to
muscle the film, which is about half in Spanish, to deserved success
with the general public, including the growing Hispanic market.
Outstandingly realized on all levels, the picture filters a harsh
story of senseless and brutal behavior through a sensibility strongly
attuned to the absurd, humorous and illogical aspects of existence.
Behind it all is a tale of redemption, an insistence on the significance
of all human life in a geographic and political context in which
life's value is easily and commonly minimized.
Penned by Mexican screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga, "Three Burials"
is told in a fractured, non-sequential way, complete with chapter
headings ("The First Burial," etc.), although it's simpler
structurally than the two films that put the scripter on the map,
"Amores Perros" and "21 Grams."
After a brief prologue in which two hunters in the desert come upon
a coyote feasting on a man's corpse, pic sets up the dynamics in
dirt-poor border area Cibolo County, Texas. Young Mike Norton (Barry
Pepper) has just arrived to work for the hard-pressed Border Patrol.
Sullen and uncommunicative, he does nothing to ease the transition
for his uncommonly gorgeous wife Lou Ann (January Jones), who spends
parts of her vacant days at the local diner, where she befriends
straight-shooter waitress Rachel (Melissa Leo).
A woman who makes it her business to get what she wants, Rachel
is married to the cafe owner, but is having simultaneous affairs
with rugged, down-to-earth ranch foreman Pete Perkins (Tommy Lee
Jones) and local Sheriff Belmont (Dwight Yoakam). Pete hires a young
illegal from Mexico, Melquiades Estrada (Julio Cesar Cedillo), with
whom he forges a strong bond, while Belmont takes an expedient view
of dealing with both the Border Patrol and the difficult daily issues
of crime and illegals.
Although crucial incidents are revealed at select moments and from
different points of view, the pivotal act has Mike, panicked by
gunfire he hears while on routine desert patrol, accidentally killing
Melquiades, whose body he hastily buries. A resulting cover-up has
the local authorities decide not to pursue justice in the case,
since it was "only" an illegal who died. Enraged when
he learns of this, Pete barges into Mike's home, tying up Lou Ann
(who, as arranged by Pete, had been conducting a secret affair with
Melquiades), and taking Mike away in order to administer his own
form of correct moral justice.
The film gets down to business in the surprising, vivid second half.
Pete compels Mike to dig up Melquiades' body and journey on horseback
into Mexico, where, in fulfillment of a promise, the cowboy will
bury Melquiades in his native village near his family.
This forced march, which recalls aspects not only of Peckinpah but
"The Treasure of the Sierra Madre," is necessarily brutal
and bitter, as Pete keeps Mike in suspense as to his own fate just
as he tries to push him to full recognition of the stupidity and
severity of his horrible act.
The script and Jones' acutely intelligent work as director and actor
give the journey a full-bodied dimensionality shot through with
abundant flavors. There's the comic absurdity of Pete's attentions
to Melquiades' rapidly deteriorating corpse, which include partially
burning it to kill devouring ants and brushing its hair, which promptly
falls out in clumps. There's brutality in a poisonous snake bite
and the beating of a young woman, and unexpected poetic grace at
an isolated desert cantina where a girl plays Chopin on an out-of-tune
old piano.
Road to the climax contains surprises of its own, both for the characters
and audience, and payoff is richly earned.
Arriaga's script is so deeply conceived that, even though the characters
do many profoundly misguided things, the viewer understands these
people well enough to accept them; there's no melodramatic good-and-evil
here, but a range of human pros and cons hopelessly intertwined.
Jones' gritty, clearheaded direction amplifies these qualities;
it's at one with the material in much the same way the life-and-death
drama finds its natural stage in the desert. Reinforcing this feeling
is Chris Menges' widescreen cinematography, which is exceptionally
expressive of the rough textures of the landscapes (some of the
action was filmed on Jones' own West Texas ranch).
Playing an iconic, grizzled, old-style cowpoke, Jones takes him
deeper, investing Pete with values simple but not simplistic and
navigating a path that does right by everyone in his life who deserves
it. Pepper potently puts over the most problematic role -- that
of a young, shallow man who hasn't yet learned to properly deal
with either life's bounty (his lovely wife) or its hardships (a
challenging job).
Leo invests her wonderfully conceived role with a zest for life,
while January Jones is an alluring, sympathetic vessel waiting to
be filled. Yoakam and Cedillo are fine in the other significant
parts.
A EuropaCorp and Javelina Film Co. presentation.
(International sales: EuropaCorp, Paris.) Produced by Michael Fitzgerald,
Luc Besson, Pierre-Ange Le Pogam, Tommy Lee Jones. Directed by Tommy
Lee Jones. Screenplay, Guillermo Arriaga.
Pete Perkins - Tommy Lee Jones
Mike Norton - Barry Pepper
Melquiades Estrada - Julio Cesar Cedillo
Belmont - Dwight Yoakam
Lou Ann Norton - January Jones
Rachel - Melissa Leo
Old Man With Radio - Levon Helm
Captain Gomez - Mel Rodriguez
Rosa - Cecilia Suarez
Lucio - Ignacio Guadalupe
Mariana - Vanessa Bauche
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