La Camioneta (2013)
Content by Tony Macklin. Originally published on August 11, 2013 @ tonymacklin.net.
La Camioneta is an earnest film about earnest folk.
Its major assets are the people of Guatemala and the symbolism of a bus. The problem that documentarian Mark Kendall faces is that he tries to drive down different roads at the same time. On occasion, he takes off ramps.
La Camioneta begins with an auction in Pennsylvania selling used school buses. After eight years service they are eligible to be sold to those from foreign countries who want to transform them into commercial buses.
"All buses go to Central America or Africa," says an official of the auction company.
Many of the buses are sold to Guatemalans, who drive them to their homeland.
We follow Dominic, one of the drivers, on his long, "dangerous" drive across Mexico on his way to Guatemala. "Anything can happen in Mexico," he says warily, alluding to the corrupt officials and robbery.
"Keep moving and don't look back," he says.
In Guatemala, the bus is sold to a dealer, and it's on its way to transformation.
Question: When is a Bus a Phoenix?
Answer: When it travels to Guatemala.
Some Guatemalans see the bus as a symbol for life. One talks about his "relationship with the bus." It is a relationship that offers a potential future. In a land of poverty and crime, it represents hope.
There also are formidable hazards. The buses are constantly under attack by criminal elements, and hundreds of drivers, fare collectors, and passengers have been slaughtered. We see footage from the aftermath of a destructive, lethal attack in Rutas Quetzal.
But the buses offer a way to prosperity.
The violence not only disrupts the bus owners, it also diverts the film. When Kendall is concentrating on the concept of the bus and its evolution, as the symbol for life, he is on firm ground. When he gets diverted by crime and violence, he loses his focus.
His thesis is the transforming beauty of the bus, and when he starts emphasizing crime, it's like a tire has gone flat. Especially problematic is that Kendall suddenly drops crime and goes back to the story of the bus. He was the one who raised the point of crime, and then suddenly he abandons it.
When he utilizes footage of a group meeting with a government official, presenting him a petition demanding more security. Kendall photographs the official drinking coffee while a woman petitioner is talking.
It's a rare note of satire, but it's dropped. Kendall leaps back to the bus, which has been refurbished, and is enveloped with flowers for a ceremonial blessing by a priest. This scene should be the apogee, but since crime has been introduced, we are left wondering about that.
La Camioneta also has a tacked-on ending in the USA. It shows children on a school bus driving down a neat suburban street. The Guatemalans have been dumped by the wayside.
It's not universal nor ironic. The children in the bus look like they're driving into a Target commercial.
Despite such lapses in tone, La Camioneta has appeal. Perhaps Kendall's greatest strength is finding expressive Guatemalan faces. One is an old man who, after a shakedown by police, stares blankly out of a bus window.
Another is a child at a supper table. Also, a father laughingly watching his little son blowing on a cup of hot coffee.
There is a strong sense of fatalism in the faces of a pair of men sitting on grass beside a road talking about driving buses and the threat of death.
Hopefulness is expressed by Mario, a worker with a shining face, who talks exuberantly about his making improvised designs for the buses.
When Kendall concentrates on the humanity of the Guatemalans, he is at his best. He directed, edited, and photographed La Camioneta with finesse.
The music by Todd Griffin has effective moments - e.g, accompanying the night scene of a destroyed bus. But at times, the music is repetitive and mundane.
Kendall has vision. It should be even more integrated on his next journey.
One bus, one road.