The Magic Gloves

A total delight. Martin Rejtman's "The Magic Gloves" is like an early Almodovar film on Prozac. Actually there's an awful lot of pill-popping in this off-the-wall comedy, most of them taken by Cecila, ex-girlfriend of our hero Alejandro, (a wonderfully deadpan Vicentico). She's been diagnosed with depression by her travel agent who's married to a musician known as Piranha who invites Alejandro home believing him to be an old school-friend of his porn star brother. Yes, it's a comedy of identity, mistaken or otherwise, that wouldn't disgrace Jarmusch or Kaurismaki or maybe even Albert Brooks whom Alejandro actually resembles. As for 'props', all you need are some dogs and a car or two and you've hit the jackpot. I loved it.