Amigo

Amigo

John Sayles is economical with his movie titles. In five words or less, he gets to the point. The movies he writes and directs have location names (“Matewan,” “Sunshine State,” “Silver City,” “Limbo”) or deceptively simple descriptive statements (“The Secret of Roan Inish,” “The Brother From Another Planet,” “Return of the Secaucus Seven,” “Amigo”).

All 17 titles average out to just under 3 words per movie moniker (actually, 2.5), which means Sayles’ 18th movie must star the king of the three word movie title, Steven Seagal. Laugh if you want, but IMDb says Sayles once wrote a film for Dolph Lundgren.Sagal is only a “Marked for Death” sequel away if Mr. Sayles takes my advice.

In the meantime, his 17th film opens September 16th On Demand. “Amigo” follows through on much of what we’ve come to expect from a John Sayles joint: It’s politically aware, occasionally melodramatic and keeps a certain intimacy despite sprawling across multiple characters and stories. Bitter irony and blatant humanism co-exist peacefully as Sayles’ heroes, heroines and villains strive to maintain the dignity he inherently believes they possess.

For my money well, actually for Chris Cooper’s money; I am broke Lone Star is the quintessential example of Sayles expressing his themes and ideas in epic format. Anchored by Cooper’s performance(s), Lone Star spins a tale of power/race/class across generations while juggling numerous characters with whom we invest such weight/interest that I could follow any one of them out of this film and into their own adventures.

“Amigo” is not as tightly crafted as “Lone Star.” It’s a messier work whose dialogue is at times too purple; its political allusions too obvious; and it has a one-note character that is uncharacteristic of its creator. Much of its plot is predictable in an old-fashioned, yet comforting, studio-system way. Reminiscent of a sloppier E.L. Doctorow novel that’s right: I said it “Amigo” merges real-life characters with fictional ones while plumbing a bygone era for parallels of today.

Like Doctorow, Sayles provides numerous details of the period he depicts, culled from the research he did for his book “A Moment in the Sun.” Its U.S. occupation plotline could represent Iraq or Vietnam or Afghanistan; and its soldier characters are good all boys found in many an old war movie (and many an actual platoon, as well). What makes “Amigo” engrossing despite its predictability is the object of its gaze: This is an occupation story, but for a change, “the Other” is us. The occupied people are observing the outsiders who have interrupted their life narrative by invading their country. In “Amigo,” we are entrenched in the Philippine-American War (1899-1902).

Just as Sayles did his homework before making “Amigo,” I had to do mine before watching it. We must have covered the Philippine-American War in my high school U.S. History II class, but history was my worst subject and I didn’t retain anything I was taught. (I’m sorry, Mr. Selby.) My friends at Wikipedia filled me in on some of the details.

The film begins with voiceover telling us that the U.S., having declared war on Spain in hopes of freeing Cuba, ceded the Philippines to America in 1898 even though Filipinos controlled all of the Philippines except Manila. Independence was declared by General Emilio Aguinaldo, who was ignored by both Spain and the U.S. According to the opening narration, American soldiers came “half a world away” to another Spanish colony in 1899 and “decided to stay.”

“Amigo” is set in 1900. Aguinaldo is “on the run,” hiding from place to place while carrying messages between guerilla fighters battling the U.S. military for Philippine independence one of which is read by a man serving under Simon (Ronnie Lazaro). Sayles crosscuts this with a similar military letter read by Lt. Compton (an excellent Garret Dillahunt). Under orders from Col. Hardacre (an underused, surprisingly one-note Chris Cooper), Lt. Compton has taken over San Isidro Village, freeing Spanish captives held there by Filipino guerillas since their takeover of the town where they’ve been ever since its capture from Spain years earlier.

Aguinaldo’s letter tells them that anyone helping the enemy will be considered traitors and killed; Lt.-Compton’s letter says exactly the same thing. The message is identical but who’s who in this equation depends entirely on your point of view.

This kind of juxtaposition happens frequently in “Amigo,” and for the most part, it’s quite effective.(Though one, equating a military battle with a cockfight, had me posing the screen, “Seriously, John?”) The title amigo is Rafael (Joel Torre, in the film’s best performance), whose revolutionary brother Simon serves as his counterpart; Hardacre’s coldness balances out Lt. Compton’s eventual softening toward Rafael and the people of San Isidro.

Sayles splits time between Rafael who understands his brother’s stance but feels he must play along with the Americans for the sake of the villagers who see him as their adviser and Rafael’s son, who rejected his father’s pacifist bent and ran off to fight alongside his uncle. The people are devoutly Catholic thanks to Spain, and the priest though technically a prisoner continues to hear their confessions and serve as an equally trusted adviser.

The priest named Padre Hidalgo (Yul Vazquez) is a wild card. His spiritual duties contradict with his colonial ideas inherited from his origin country. When the Americans come, he changes from being a prisoner to becoming a Big Man On Campus. Knowing English, Spanish and Tagalog, Father Hidalgo is like a common Rosetta Stone which translates (and sometimes misinterprets) between the villagers and their American occupiers. What makes him happy most is that he sends former BMOC Rafael down to plow fields per Lt. Compton’s order; those fields were owned by father before Rafael came.

Vazquez does an excellent job in his performance by balancing on the edge all the time. I hesitated about trusting him at some point, and some lines he delivered seemed to hint that I should not have done so. “Sometimes moral path isn’t always obvious”, he tells Lt. Compton; when explaining San Isidro festival which takes place every year in town, he says it is “partly religious and partly profane, like so many things in this poor country”. That includes Padre Hidalgo himself.

Like Sayles’ other naming conventions, film’s title simplicity hides much deeper meaning than what can be seen at first glance. The entire climax of movie hinges upon whether or not Rafael had betrayed his “amigo” status thus leading into ambush men under command of Lt. Compton’s officer rank this person could easily be mistaken for Dick Cheney once Colonel Hardacre earns such comparison as having waterboarded one person called Rafeal whom he though might know something about brother who happens to be involved with guerillas against US forces presence there etcetera blah blabla.

Sayles leaves answer open-ended but leaning towards outcome where our protagonist believes otherwise; While such act will always remain shrouded within shades blackness forever castigated throughout human history it also represents utmost expression friendship any human being may display. “I knew I was doomed as soon [as they] came,” says Rafael to his wife after being convicted for treason, and an earlier conversation supports that conclusion.

The 1901 surrender of General Aguinaldo, which did not end the conflict but began a pardon program set by President Teddy Roosevelt (who followed President McKinley, who was assassinated), is the point after which “Amigo” takes place. The amigo they are talking about in its last line of dialogue, which says, “this is your lucky day, amigo,” is not the amigo you think it’s directed at. But notice who it’s spoken to and ask yourself what John Sayles is getting at with this ending?

Watch Amigo For Free On Gomovies.