Let’s say it from the start: Salgán & Salgán is a beautiful film. You fully realize how honest, heart-warming and profound it is in the last 15 minutes. Up until then, you were probably seduced and enthralled by the music of Horacio Salgán, one of Argentina’s most accomplished musicians, who turned 99 years old last June. A pianist, composer, orchestra director, and arranger specializing in tango music, Horacio Salgán is nominally the protagonist of Caroline Neal’s documentary. And yet there are two Salgáns in the title, and that’s because the film is also about Horacio’s son César Salgán.
Better said, it’s about their father-and-son bond, which was once interrupted for 18 years when they weren’t even on speaking terms. Horacio said it was because of “something” that to other people wouldn’t be that important — yet he doesn’t say what that “something” is. And the filmmaker doesn’t ask. In fact, Neal’s voice-over is only heard three or four times in the entire documentary and her words provide an insightful point of view on what’s on the screen. During the remaining screen time, what you notice is her assured, never intrusive direction displayed in the precious snippets of time and space her camera has captured. That is to say the moments that matter in the life of both Horacio and César.
It wouldn’t be unfair to say that the father-and-son bond Horacio and César share has been built not without a good dose of conflict. César met his father as a child and saw him on TV. César’s parents were separated by then and once he grew up, he’d visit his father and listen to what he had to teach him about music. As César himself puts it, theirs was not the typical father-and-son relationship. If César had expected his father to take him for a walk in the park, then he would have waited in vain: as Horacio himself says, his is the world of music. He lives in the world of music and the other world, the real world, is left aside as much as possible.
Which is not to say that Horacio is an extravagant man, an uncaring father, or an aloof individual. Quite the contrary: you can see that as he expresses his love to César in diverse ways that, at a glance, may not even be noticed. You can see how joyous he is as the filmmaker’s camera brings him forward in expressive close ups. You can see he is, in some ways, just a man with his share of flaws and virtues.
As for César, he also had another life besides that of being a seasoned musician himself. He used to be into car racing: he loved the danger, the feeling of being on the edge. Just like his father’s, the son’s life has had much to be enriched with. As a musician, he sees himself as some kind of follower of his father. Perhaps he still needs to find out on his own how valuable he is as well, regardless his father.
What Salgán & Salgán does best is creating a tale that first exists in the subtext of the most visible storyline, meaning that of Salgán the musician, and then it’s brought to the fore in an almost uncanny manner. So the underlying story that ends up becoming the main story, the one that matters and may move you to tears at the very end, has to do with no less than feeling that your father’s gaze has been placed on you for good. That your father sees you. That your father will be with you. And as for that father and son: divided they fall, united they stand.
Moreover, Neal’s documentary eschews all traces of solemnity and desire for objectivity in favour of a nonchalant stance and trust in the subjectivity of deep feelings and contagious emotions. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Production notes
Salgán & Salgán (Argentina, 2015) Directed by Caroline Neal. Written by Alberto Muñoz y Caroline Neal. Cinematography: Caroline Neal, Sebastian Martinez, Diego Olmos. Editing: Caroline Neal. Music: Horacio y César Salgán, El Quinteto Real, La Gran Orquesta TangoVia Buenos Aires directed by César Salgán. Running time: 86 minutes.
