Jose Kurtz, the
main character played by Fernando Lujan in the stellar
Nora’s Will, is not a character we are immediately drawn
to. He is an older man, afflicted with the sort of late-life
grouchiness we’ve come to expect from our elderly film
characters. He isn’t feeble or weak though, he’s a merely
codgerly, a man who’s lived a healthy portion of his life,
and decided on the way he’ll continue forward with it. He’s
stubborn, set in his ways, but the type of bull-headed alpha
male who’s good with children and still blessed with a
modicum of charm. Director Mariana Chenillo doesn’t stick to
typical lovable brute stereotypes either, Jose Kurtz is
richly written character that comes to life on screen when
his ex-wife (whom he lives across the street from) commits
suicide. The truly enjoyable aftermath of her death unravels
the emotional undertones that make Jose Kurtz tick, and the
slowly unwinding is a simple joy to watch.
Kurtz’s wife, the Nora of the title, didn’t commit suicide
without a plan. She’s orchestrated a dinner for her
Jewish-Mexican family, that allows for little to no
interference from the ornery Kurtz. This of course irks Jose
in all ways, and this irking draws his character to the
surface. He is opposed, strongly, to the Jewish-Mexican
ceremony Nora demands, and goes as far as to buy her a lot
in a Catholic cemetary. He offends Rabbis, his family, the
cook, the young religious man tasked to pray over Nora’s
body (which lingers in a bedroom for the entire film, kept
cool by dried ice) - he is a bore and well aware of it,
Chenillo doesn’t allow for Kurtz’ character to slide in to
caricature.
The slow
progression of friends and family and holy men that begin to
populate the edges of Nora’s apartment and thus Jose’s life,
slowly wash away the propped up emotional costume, Jose
wears when we are first introduced to him. His stubbornness
is all encompassing and makes no leeway for family, but
there’s reason behind his ill-temper, his aversion towards
Nora’s funereal plans, and the discovery of these glossed
over family secrets had vacillating between tears and
laughter for the films entire running time.
Fernando Lujan is a fantastic actor and he carries the film
on his shoulders, yet Chenillo stocks the surrounding cast
with memorable characters portrayed by talented actors.
Kurtz’s son Ruben (Ari Brickman) is the lubrication between
the outside world and Kurtz’s thick-skulled patriarch, and
his soft-spoken presence paints a fantastic picture the
person Nora was in her life. A loopy aunt (played with
subtle, nosey humor by Veronica Langer), the lifelong cook
devastated by Nora’s death (Angelina Pelaez), the doctor
whom Nora might’ve known too well (Juan Carlos Colombo) -
all help to form the image of the deceased Nora, allowing
her character to breath just as much as any other in the
film.
It is Nora’s constant, beloved presence that makes us wonder
so much why Jose is so oppositional to her wishes. It
becomes the central mystery of the film (both for us and for
him) and when it finally comes to light, it’s a magical
moment, left beautifully pure by a lack of over-the-top
exposition. A moment that helps to shed the coat of prickly
grouchiness Jose has worn the entire film and expose him for
what he really is - an elderly man sad to say goodbye to the
love of his entire life.
- Noah Sanders
-
Unless
otherwise expressly stated, all text in this blog and any
related pages, including the blog's archives, is licensed by
John Laird under a
Creative Commons License.
