Reviews
De que color es el viento (1973)
Two blind children
I'm going to summarize everything I can remember about this film, since it is, as far as I can gather, not available for purchase anywhere, and these comments will most likely be of interest only to academic researchers and persons curious about the history of the Mexican cinema.
I saw this film ages ago, when I was just a child, so my memory of it is only hazy. The film concerns two blind children who are friends (thus, the title, which roughly translates "What color is the wind?"). One child, the young boy, comes from a poor family. The other child, a young girl, is from a rich family. Despite the fact that they are of different social classes, their mutual blindness joins them, and the two are inseparable playmates.
Several times, throughout the film, the girl's parents are seen consulting with surgeons and discussing the latest medical procedures which may be able to help her. Later, the girl is seen undergoing these surgeries. But the treatments are to no avail. She remains incurably blind. Then, at some point, near the end of the film, an authority figure of some sort (a teacher? a doctor? I don't recall) takes an interest in the boy when he notes that a new surgical procedure may be able to cure him of his blindness. Despite their initial hesitation, the poor child's parents consent to the procedure (they cannot afford to pay for it, but the doctors have agreed to perform the surgery for free). The procedure proves to be a success. When the doctors remove the child's bandages, he is able to see. The doctor then warns the child that whatever he does, he is not to stare directly at the Sun, as this could render him blind again.
Overjoyed by the successful surgery, the young boy returns to see his friend, only to find that the girl's mother refuses to allow him to see her. Class differences, easily overlooked when both children were blind, now rear their ugly heads. The young girl's mother explains that it is no longer appropriate that the children should play together, given that he, a poor boy, can see while she, a rich girl, remains blind. The boy is distraught, and angry. In gaining his sight, he has lost his best friend and playmate. Now, in the final scene, we see the young boy outside, lying on his back, with his face towards the sky. He opens his eyes and stares at the Sun, just as the doctors had warned him not to do. For a moment the camera shows the bright Sun above, as from the boy's perspective. But it is only for a moment. The child thinks twice. He closes his eyes before the damage is done, then picks himself up off the ground and runs down the hill yelling out to a group of boys who are playing soccer down below to let him join in their game. The film ends.
The only other thing I remember about the film was the refrain from the title song, which went: "¿De qué color es el viento? / Dímelo / Dímelo" that is, "What color is the wind? / Tell me / Tell me."
-David Flores
Running Scared (2006)
A glorious mess!
Question: What would happen if you took "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels", "Reservoir Dogs", "Pulp Fiction", "Donnie Brasco" and "The Warriors", threw them in a blender and poured the resulting mess out onto a silver screen? Answer: You'd get "Running Scared."
Remember the scene in "Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels" where there's a violent, bloody gun battle in a tiny room packed with shotgun wielding thugs, and pretty much everyone gets blown away? Well, writer/director Waye Kramer does. And he loved it so much, he puts it into his film in three different places!
Remember the twisted S&M dungeon scene in the pawnshop of "Pulp Fiction"? Bring out the Gimp! Well, Kramer does too. I don't want to give too much away here, but let's just say that "Running Scared" has got its own version of the twisted sexual dungeon scene, complete with an "I'm gonna get Medieval on your a**" style vengeful (and cathartic) street-justice denouement.
Borrowed from "The Warriors" is the protagonist's creepy midnight journey through an urban Hell of bizarre, but colorful villains, each one weirder than the next (though Kramer might also have taken some inspiration from Scorcese's dizzying "After Hours").
I could go on, dear reader, but I think you get the point.
All this cinematic "borrowing" aside, the only question that really matters is whether this film is worth seeing. And to that question I answer with an emphatic *yes*. Oh, don't get me wrong: the film *is* crazy mess. But it's a really *fun* crazy mess. It may not be the most original film I've ever seen, but its worth taking in, if nothing else, for its manic, schizophrenic, and delightfully unpretentious intensity.