“To catch a killer”, by Damián Szifrón: a Batman of Troy
Damián Szifrón didn’t have a prolific but indeed a successful body of work, where from the very beginning, with “El fondo del mar” (The Bottom of the Sea), he started hitting the target with every shot. Because he has the marks of an author. Because he doesn’t speak with someone else’s voice. Because even when he transmutes his words into another language and inserts them into characters from a different culture like a puppeteer, when we see “Misántropo” (To catch a killer), we recognize his voice, his timing, his shots, his sense of humor, and the content at times heroic and at times didactic (although rarely preachy) in his ideals.
This english-speaking debut of the creator of “El fondo del mar” (The Bottom of the Sea), “Los Simuladores” (The Pretenders), “Hermanos y detectives,” “Tiempo de Valientes” (On Probation), and “Relatos Salvajes” (Wild Tales) places an anonymous shooter (serial? sporadic? will we find out?) as the antagonist, and a police officer with a troubled past (Shailene Woodley) as the hunter who navigates through a stormy present, overcoming her own traumas and the hostility of a vertical and sexist environment.
In this transposition to American cinema filmed in Canada, Szifrón has the advantage of genres. The police buddy movie with Hollywood tropes, where the heroes challenge bureaucratic structures to solve terrible problems, is practically the foundation of most of his works. And the idea that the police could function better and should serve the population is one of his leitmotifs, the common denominator to which his viewers agree when joining the story of “such a corrupt institution,” as Damián defends through Diana, the wife of the psychologist portrayed by the multifaceted Diego Peretti in “On Probation.”
“Misántropo” is a name that fits “To catch a killer” much better, which sounds like a lukewarm premise in the style of 1960s Hitchcock. But this latest film, which makes me wonder if any American viewer will go see it knowing that the director is Argentine and a world champion, is much like a Trojan horse. Because beyond his pen being present at all times, and his humor being present at all times, his timing, the cadence of his dialogues, his characters that we can almost see emerging from Chief Lammark’s mouth like an angry Santos from “The Pretenders”, the biting gaze of the one who once gave us scenes where Argentine wit surpassed even the FBI, lurks as a protocol guest at an institutional meeting. That double game of the name that gives the United States a standard tale of noir genre and action, and gives Argentina (and other parts of the world) an almost philosophical story filled with a hatred that we have all felt at some point in recent decades.
Szifrón speaks to the American audience in their own terms, with a plot that doesn’t preach but does criticize. His topics are there: the police should act heroically, simply, and selflessly, separating themselves from the misery of corruption and bureaucracy. Ours is an advanced but violent and complex society where governments have left us alone, and everything can explode at any moment. But in that selfless context, human and committed feelings make a difference; intelligence and talent to find lateral solutions are essential for our salvation, and those who take risks, win.
It portrays right-wing fanaticism, that neofascist force that has been resurging in the last decade as a revival of the 1920s, but it doesn’t overestimate its threat (although in my humble opinion, it should never be underestimated), rather it makes them participants in a noise that contaminates the air and the perception of everyday life with execrable ideologies that have become a cruel joke. And it doesn’t delve too much into the issue of gun regulation, even though spontaneous shootings are one of the most sensitive problems in present-day United States, and clearly, the movie’s argument is not coincidental.
The film mentions debates and conceptual craziness through television noise. Social media, for once (and strangely), takes a backseat. It’s even the first time I hear a reference to the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic from a cinema seat, as if we have finally accepted that enough time has passed to include it as a historical fact and not have to immerse ourselves in near-future uchronic scenarios.
“To catch a killer” is the story of a simple and ordinary heroine with access to the current investigative technology of a hyper-vigilant United States. A democratized and poor Batman, with specific traumas to the new character, but one who doesn’t emerge from the pain of a pseudo-fascist millionaire but from the human commitment of a woman, a Black person, and a homosexual (uh, sorry, spoilers).
The film has more in common with “On probation” and “Hermanos y Detectives” than with other productions by the director. It is at times brutal and at times frenetic. It’s also emotional, tangled, complex, and cliché. Without being perfect, let’s say I give it a 7 out of 10, it’s very good, and gathering to watch it with friends sounds like a good plan. Seeing Szifrón’s mark in “To catch a killer” is like seeing a friend whom we always see drunk, now working in customer service. They are friendly, intelligent, but fulfilling a role under a behavior that disguises their identity without hiding it.
Szifrón pleases his employers but constantly winks at us, like a photographer who works at an aristocratic wedding and shares the most embarrassing photos via WhatsApp, skillfully employing multiple meanings that impact viewers from each origin in different but equal ways. He winks at us from the stage and says, “Look how far I’ve come.”
The film is very good and endearing.
