‘Official Competition’ a sharp satire of film industry
In “Official Competition,” Argentinian directors Gastón Duprat and Mariano Cohn, with their longtime collaborator, screenwriter Andrés Duprat, send up film culture in this tragicomic dissection of the artist’s way, or rather, ways. Legendary Spanish stars Penélope Cruz and Antonio Banderas team up with Duprat, Cohn and Argentinian star Oscar Martínez to embody the different strains of pretentiousness that permeate the film industry, and the combustion that happens when all three are thrown together in a high-pressure situation.
This moviemaking satire starts with the money, of course. An aging pharmaceutical mogul, Humberto Suárez (José Luis Goméz) turns 80 and starts to look back on his legacy, considering what to put his name on. Not a building, not a bridge, but a movie, a good one. So he hires a critically acclaimed, Palme d’Or winning filmmaker, the eccentric Lola Cuevas (Cruz) and buys the rights to a Nobel prize-winning novel titled “Rivalry,” though he’s unfamiliar with both Lola’s work and the contents of the book. Nevertheless, he installs her in his empty charity foundation building, a hulking labyrinth of brutal modern architecture, and whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.
What she wants is to pair a prestigious, wellrespected actor and acting teacher, Iván Torres (Martínez) with one of the country’s biggest stars, Félix Rivero (Banderas), pitting them against each other in a loose adaptation of the novel about a lifelong rivalry between two brothers. She’s scheduled nine days of closed rehearsal, during which she subjects Iván and Félix to an increasingly absurd series of “exercises” intended to “transform” them, hoping to break down their egos. Lola’s ironic, artsy pretentiousness rubs up against Iván’s super serious reverence for his craft and code of ethics, which then clashes with Félix’s diva behavior and demands. It’s unclear who will make it out of this situation intact, but what a joy it is to watch an outlandishly wigged Cruz torture these two men, as the three squabble and manipulate while searching for a scrap of artistic transcendence.
“Official Competition” makes a statement about the state of the film industry, with deep-pocketed investors looking for something that’s “the best” without having any clue about what that actually means. Lola takes down that notion, separating the ideas of “quality” and “likability,” especially when she’s talking about her work. But she’s also an empathetic person, and despite her arch persona, she feels deeply for her collaborators, despite, or perhaps because of, the intimate artistic roller coaster she has constructed for them.
The building itself becomes a character in the film, captured in thoughtful compositions by cinematographer Arnau Valls Colomer. The filmmakers utilize depth of field beautifully — there’s a humor in the way that the characters have to traverse these cavernous empty spaces, or in the shapes and combinations in which they are placed. Moreso, it’s almost as if the space itself drives their madness, and it plays a key role in some of the film’s more dramatic turns.
The plot follows the meta-rivalry between the two men who jockey to be the better actor, but at the heart of the smart and spiky “Official Competition” is the question of what makes art “good,” as well as the futility of applying such a banal label to something that can be moving, transportive or challenging. Ultimately, the film asserts that “the best” might be something rather soulless, even dangerous. This epiphany rocks Lola, and should make the audience question the value of putting art, and artists, in competition with each other, a lesson to take to heart every year when awards season rolls around, though this one will likely be in contention, and perhaps even in competition.