In 2010, after some ten years working as an assistant director for established filmmakers such as Lucrecia Martel and Pablo Trapero, Natalia Smirnoff made her filmmaking debut with the remarkable Rompecabezas (Puzzle), which ran in the Berlinale’s official competition. The film dealt with the road to self-fulfilment undertaken by an ordinary, yet neglected housewife who discovers she has a knack for solving puzzles. Subtly moving and truly smart, Rompecabezas also showed Smirnoff’s talent for eliciting a most alluring performance from her leading actress, María Onetto.
Now Smirnoff has released her second film, El cerrajero (Lock Charmer), which corroborates her expertise at creating notable character studies and getting the most out of her actors, Esteban Lamothe and Erica Rivas, who are indeed absorbing. Yet plot-wise it represents a slip-up, as the narrative doesn’t evolve as effortlessly as it did in her debut film. Taken separately, a good number of scenes are quite involving and authentic. But as a whole, the film does not glue together very well. It feels it’s been articulated in too episodic and arbitrary a manner.
Sebastián is a locksmith who could care less for long-term relationships or social commitments. He’s more into free love, if you will. So when his “not-girlfriend” tells him she’s pregnant and he may be the father, he dismisses the idea of fatherhood right away. Which is not to say he doesn’t care about her. The truth is he cares for her more than he would like to acknowledge. At the same time, he learns he has acquired a rare gift out of the blue: when he fixes someone’s lock, he gets to see something hidden about their lives. He sees deceit, treason, and lies. In due time, he’ll get a vision about himself, his love life, and his unresolved issues, of course.
And all of this takes place in Buenos Aires back in 2008 when an ash cloud from a Chilean volcano blanketed the city. You’re lead to think that it is precisely the weird eruption of the volcano which prompted Sebastián to have his visions. I found the narrative gimmick of opening locks (doors) and having visions (going through the doors) to be overly metaphorical for its own good. It’s also mechanically repetitive. Once you know how it works, the element of surprise disappears, and each opened door resembles the one before. The episodes make sense in themselves, but the characters that come out of each door are either underdeveloped or clichéd — Sebastián’s mother and father are two unfortunate examples. That’s why these glimpses into the lives of others never prove to be as significant as they are intended to be.
But if you stick to a handful of isolated scenes and allow yourself to be enveloped by their emotional nature, El cerrajero will be moderately rewarding. If you focus on the leading actors, it would be even more rewarding.
