Review by Mike Martin
Stars Vincent Gallo, Maribel Verdú, Alden Ehrenreich, Klaus Maria Brandauer, Carmen Maura, Rodrigo De la Serna, Leticia Brédice, Mike Amigorena, Sofía Castiglione, Francesca De Sapio
Written by Francis Ford Coppola
Certification UK 15 | US R
Runtime 120 minutes
Directed by Francis Ford Coppola
It’s difficult to place this film in the canon of Francis Ford Coppola – it probably has most in common with his under-rated 1983 story Rumble Fish, but it’s less moving and more difficult to go with. Ultimately it’s Coppola trying to do art-house, and whilst a fascinating experiment, it has to be considered a misfire – if it was made by a young buck the flaws and huge indulgences would be easier to digest, but from a mature director ...
Like Rumble Fish it’s told in black and white, with gorgeous flashes of colour in flashbacks, and has a similar theme of brothers. Teenager Bennie (Ehrenreich) has run away from home, gone to sea and turns up in Buenos Aires at the home of his long-estranged brother Tetro (Gallo), and his Argentinian wife Miranda (Verdu). Tetro does not give his brother a warm welcome – he wants nothing to do with his family after some bad treatment in the past, but Bennie wants to know their family history as he was too young to remember much. Tetro is a lighting technician for a small theatre group, but actually a writer – the only problem is no-one has ever read his words as he keeps them secret. It turns out he and Miranda met when he was in an asylum recovering from a breakdown, and she nurtured his writing on condition she never reads it. When Bennie finds it he manages to decode it, adds an ending and announces he is entering it in a theatre competition judged by the fierce Alone (Maura).
In the background to all of this is the spectre of their shared father Carlo (Brandaur), a brilliant but dominating musical conductor who has less talent raising children. When the young Tetro announces he wants to be a writer Carlo tells him “there is only room for one genius in this family”. There are so many themes and ideas swilling around here it’s difficult to keep up – there is a strong Oedipal theme, there are references to classical theatre – Tetro lights a dreadful camp version of Faust – and even nods to The Red Shoes and Tales Of Hoffman. There are also lots of Lynch-like ideas of identity and dreams – there are hints that Bennie and Tetro are the same person, or that when the brothers go into a hospital the rest of the film is inside of their come-laden heads. Are the colour flashback scenes dreams, or the other way around?
Tetro certainly can’t be accused of lacking ideas, or passion, but what it certainly lacks is some pacing and drive, and a coherent story. The final act, which lasts for about a week, is pretentious, slow and just plain annoying in parts, and nothing is really resolved. It’s huge credit to Gallo, Ehrenreich and Verdu that interest is held for so long with such unpleasant people, but ultimately the story disappears into a brick wall. Shame, as it certainly has a lot going for it, especially the visuals – the black and white is lovely, the sepia flashbacks absolutely ravishing. Verdu also deserves a special mention, the actress who was so strong in Pan’s Labyrinth is equally fine here, sympathetic, loving and passionate – quite why she falls for a clearly mad Gallo, clutching his plastic bag of demented writings and wild-eyed, is never really made clear. Like a lot of things in the film, actually.