Impeccable sound, cinematography and editing do justice to the uncommonly elegant plot which we can loosely categorize as a mystery. BETWEEN, however transverses genres with generous ease, so much so that one wonders when "thriller", "mystery", or "love story" became separate endeavors.
We first met our heroine, played by the glorious Poppy Montgomery in the midst of a clue. Her journey on the outset is the most physical and mundane of acts: she must cross the border into Tijuana (a visual feast which is worked to the hilt) to find her missing sister.
A lesser actor might fumble the demands of this role as Nadine is required to be a spirit of sorts - a brave, sincere, and passionate woman who is willing to cross any border to find the truth. We soon realize that her journey is in fact a metaphysical one calling upon her spirit and strength; it occurs to one how seldom women are given such roles.
The clues are presented for our perusal: Valentines' day, a letter, a clock, a bus, a repetition of a phrase. We discover we are involved in a literal story that questions it's own literalness, that is more about the act of experience than any particular experience. The memory and movements of our heroine are in need of our full attention and we come to understand that our participation is required. We have to trust what we see and remember what we see and look, always, closer. This is perhaps the most stunning accomplishment of this film: our own involvement.
There is a feel to a Mexican city that is unlike any other. In Ocanas' hands we are two steps closer and inside this city, able to travel freely in a manner not often expressed through most film makers eyes, meaning observing eyes or, plainly, American eyes. The soaring energy and particulars of Tijuana begin to feel intimate and become as regular and every day as our local grocer. In one critical scene Nadine finds herself in a junkyard filled with buses. We are not just captivated by the strange beauty of this scene, we are there with her, searching and stumbling under the same hot sun.
Aside from her husband, Robert (Adam Kaufman) is Detective Campos (Jose Yenque) the detective, (though by now we know we realize that we are the detectives) who is equally as compelling and with a leading man's fresh appeal. His character is introduced as, simply, an official and a rather cruel one at that. Campos manages to convey both this and a secret. Is he her enemy? Her guardian angel? Or is he just a bitter man who has seen too much violence.
These questions remain available to us and we are willing to accept at any moment that a new aspect of one's personality or a duplicitous motive will be revealed. Much like our relationships in 'real life', every character introduced, from the Tijuana doctor to the elderly matriarch, express a level of personality and presence giving this film much tenderness so even the most daring of revelations and turns remain grounded.
BETWEEN does more than this however. It deposits these familial characters inside a plot in which it is reveled that they are mere puppets, at the will of greater forces. The fact that we already feel connected to them makes this both jarring and thrilling.
There was a point toward the end of BETWEEN when I realized I was worried. We are all somewhat accustomed to disappointment in some form when loose ends must be tied up - it is a common occurrence in complex works. What a relief it is when our careful attention pays off and we are treated to a finale more deeply satisfying than any you are likely to see in cinema today.
We first met our heroine, played by the glorious Poppy Montgomery in the midst of a clue. Her journey on the outset is the most physical and mundane of acts: she must cross the border into Tijuana (a visual feast which is worked to the hilt) to find her missing sister.
A lesser actor might fumble the demands of this role as Nadine is required to be a spirit of sorts - a brave, sincere, and passionate woman who is willing to cross any border to find the truth. We soon realize that her journey is in fact a metaphysical one calling upon her spirit and strength; it occurs to one how seldom women are given such roles.
The clues are presented for our perusal: Valentines' day, a letter, a clock, a bus, a repetition of a phrase. We discover we are involved in a literal story that questions it's own literalness, that is more about the act of experience than any particular experience. The memory and movements of our heroine are in need of our full attention and we come to understand that our participation is required. We have to trust what we see and remember what we see and look, always, closer. This is perhaps the most stunning accomplishment of this film: our own involvement.
There is a feel to a Mexican city that is unlike any other. In Ocanas' hands we are two steps closer and inside this city, able to travel freely in a manner not often expressed through most film makers eyes, meaning observing eyes or, plainly, American eyes. The soaring energy and particulars of Tijuana begin to feel intimate and become as regular and every day as our local grocer. In one critical scene Nadine finds herself in a junkyard filled with buses. We are not just captivated by the strange beauty of this scene, we are there with her, searching and stumbling under the same hot sun.
Aside from her husband, Robert (Adam Kaufman) is Detective Campos (Jose Yenque) the detective, (though by now we know we realize that we are the detectives) who is equally as compelling and with a leading man's fresh appeal. His character is introduced as, simply, an official and a rather cruel one at that. Campos manages to convey both this and a secret. Is he her enemy? Her guardian angel? Or is he just a bitter man who has seen too much violence.
These questions remain available to us and we are willing to accept at any moment that a new aspect of one's personality or a duplicitous motive will be revealed. Much like our relationships in 'real life', every character introduced, from the Tijuana doctor to the elderly matriarch, express a level of personality and presence giving this film much tenderness so even the most daring of revelations and turns remain grounded.
BETWEEN does more than this however. It deposits these familial characters inside a plot in which it is reveled that they are mere puppets, at the will of greater forces. The fact that we already feel connected to them makes this both jarring and thrilling.
There was a point toward the end of BETWEEN when I realized I was worried. We are all somewhat accustomed to disappointment in some form when loose ends must be tied up - it is a common occurrence in complex works. What a relief it is when our careful attention pays off and we are treated to a finale more deeply satisfying than any you are likely to see in cinema today.