The first scene of the feature film Japón shows a busy highway in Mexico City and then cuts to a foggy highway leading into the countryside.17 A rural scene of planted fields appears next, and then a road in the middle of nowhere. This establishes the background of
17 Reygadas says that the title of the film is purposely vague. He wanted to leave it untitled but found this to be
the protagonist’s journey from urban to rural Mexico. Though Japón is not about Indians per se, its Mexican mestizo director Carlos Reygadas notes that all of the characters in the village where most of the action takes place are “non-western” except for the unnamed protagonist, who is a depressed city dweller who has come back to the area where he used to hunt with his father in order to kill himself. 18 The setting is the state of Hidalgo, north of the Capital. Part of the protagonist seeks to recover his basic instincts, to feel again, so he comes to as anti-intellectual and “natural” a place as he can find to do this. The people, animals and scenery all radiate vitality, innocence and complete freedom from “civilized” worries. Life and death manifest themselves everywhere in the village and its surroundings, without much thought getting in the way.
A clear pattern of binaries is evident in Japón. In addition to the urban/rural contrast and the director’s comment about “non-westerners,” this is evidenced by the name of the village, “Ayá,” meaning way over there and an obvious reference to the Other. The dark- skinned townspeople are uneducated and mostly deferent to the European-looking outsider, sometimes almost as if to a patrón. The contrast is further manifested in details such as the protagonist enjoying classical music on modern headphones, while the campesinos listen to popular ballads on an old boom box that the newcomer breaks in drunken frustration. The Indian-nature trope is also heavily used, with long panoramic shots of milpas, agave cactus and mountains. The slow pace, general stoicism and aloofness of the characters also give the film a dark, romantic indigenista-tinged feel. Old dualistic pairings like urban/rural,
intellect/ignorance, rationality/instinct and progress/poverty come through clearly throughout the work.
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The main female character, Ascen, an obvious foil to the protagonist, is a slight, dark- skinned woman with a classically stoic face chiseled by wrinkles. She is supremely generous, almost to the point of being naïve. In a shocking and uncomfortable love scene, she sacrifices her elderly body so that the protagonist can be redeemed. Though this could hardly be
described as a foundational moment, it does repeat the indigenista pattern of the white patrón fulfilling his needs at the expense of the Indian peasant. In line with the strong religious motifs of the film, Ascen later sacrifices her home as well so that her delinquent nephew can use the stones to add on to his house. Unlike traditional indigenista characters, however, Ascen is plainly intelligent, well-spoken and even opinionated. On at least one occasion she even lashes out verbally at the protagonist.
One particularly telling sequence in the film reveals canonical indigenista
associations as well as a certain preoccupation with documentary-style authenticity by the director. Reygadas dedicates a long scene to the simple and very poor peasant workers who help Ascen’s nephew tear down her house. During a break, she serves them tequila and they talk a bit in front of the camera, even convincing one member of their group with a severe speech or voice impediment to sing a love song. As Moira Sullivan describes it, “[the protagonist] drinks with the villagers who offer refreshments to the team and like the mare stare at the camera. This mix of documentary realism does not seem to interfere with the story in progress” (2). Like indigenista novelists, Reygadas’ aim is to show outsiders these people “as they are.” In the interview featurette on the DVD, he states very directly, “I wanted, as I said, to work with pure, real matter. For the sake of authenticity, I needed it…. Everything you see go through the camera is real. You can go there and see it exactly as it is. Nothing was constructed, but the form is fiction.” As stated previously, in cultural
representation, and particularly when an artist attempts to represent a culture other than his or her own, there is no such thing as objectivity or authenticity. Postmodern interpretations of art argue strongly against such stances. Reygadas’ authority, outsider status and decisions about the final product cannot be separated from the work. His preferences and biases are logically intrinsic in the work, which illustrates how the director falls into the same trap as authors of indigenista fiction. Reygadas’ overall intentions in the film are clearly not indigenista, however, since his purpose is not to defend or vindicate campesinos or Indians faced with social injustice. Unlike indigenista novelists, Reygadas is much more concerned with the aesthetics of the film, the characters and the story than the social context of the work. Japón does illustrate, however, that certain aspects of indigenismo do and will continue to appear even in works that are not indigenista.