Subtle ‘Sundown’ says a lot with few words
For most of “Sundown,” a lot goes unexplained. We see what looks to be family members on vacation in Acapulco, and we can tell that they have money. But we don’t know whether what we’re seeing is a married couple and their adult children or a different combination of relationships.
There are other questions. The movie focuses on Neil (Tim Roth), who lies to his family and extends his stay in Acapulco by claiming to have misplaced his passport. We don’t know why he does that, because he never says. In fact, he never says much at all, and yet something in Roth’s demeanor tells us that this is a man who has his reasons.
When a movie contains mysteries, it’s usually the desire for answers that keeps an audience watching. But “Sundown” doesn’t function in that way. What keeps us watching is that there is always something interesting to look at here. Sometimes it’s a human face, sometimes it’s the sight of the beach and the ocean, and sometimes it’s the portrait of Acapulco nightlife.
“Sundown” has some of the appeal of a silent movie in its spare use of dialogue and its reliance on visuals to set the mood and convey information. It also is the best of both worlds in terms of economy. It feels lived in and detailed, and filmmaker Michel Franco seems in no hurry. Yet he ends up accomplishing a lot, taking his characters on a long journey in only 83 minutes.
We first meet four family members in the midst of an expensive vacation. Charlotte Gainsbourg is Alice, who keeps taking phone calls. Roth is Neil, a quiet, relaxed fellow who seems a bit distracted. The distraction could have its source in boredom or worry, but it might also originate from simply being on vacation. There’s a vacation variety of passive receptiveness that can look like dispassion or discontent from the outside, but that can actually be a subtle form of having a great time.
Some news from home in London causes the family to curtail the holiday, but Neil contrives to stay in Acapulco and stops answering concerned phone calls from home. He’s content to sit in an outdoor restaurant or sit on the beach and drink beer. If people sit down and talk to him, he talks to them. Somehow, Franco and Roth capture the enviable indolence of a summer vacation so well that it almost feels like being on vacation to watch it.
Franco must get credit for creating the story and the frame for Roth’s performance, but Roth himself must be acknowledged for making himself interesting just by sitting there. The interest lies not in Roth’s ability to suggest turmoil beneath a passive surface but in the reverse: He consistently seems calmer than he should be, so we wonder what he knows. This calmness also makes Roth’s an attractive performance. It’s easy to be around that relaxation, even as we try to understand its source.
For her part, Gainsbourg brings an intriguing edge of franticness and severity to what is essentially a brief role. The closest thing Roth has to a co-star here is Iazua Larios as a local woman who becomes attracted to Neil’s air of relaxation. Larios is a big part of the movie’s success — we see him through her eyes and her through his, and we understand why he wouldn’t want to leave.
The allure of Acapulco is easy to appreciate. The achievement of “Sundown” is harder to explain. It’s an inwardlooking film that seems to be saying something about life. Whatever it’s saying — and it’s not clear that it’s saying anything specific — it connects. It’s not just another good movie. Somehow, it all adds up as something more important.