With its universal themes having sparked enthusiastic responses in Mexico, as well as in Argentina, Brazil, and other Latin American countries, 'I'm No Longer Here' has now been picked up for distribution by Netflix, which will now take it far beyond its birthplace, to many different parts of the world.
Guillermo del Toro describes the essence of this film: “For the moment they are dancing and for that moment they are alive… [but] in the end we are all dancing alone in the middle of nowhere”
Fernando Frías de la Parra is known for directing a comedy/horror series for HBO called ‘Los Espookys’. In a recent interview with Paul Sheehan he said: -
“I am interested in blurring the lines between reality and fiction and between technique and style… sometimes I ask myself if we need to see less in order to understand more fully, or understand less, to feel more… Through my work, I seek to explore and highlight the importance of the incalculable, the accidental and the surprising…”
Fernando Frías de la Parra
Fernando Frías chose to use largely non-professional actors in ‘I'm No Longer Here’, who had to be trained at an actors’ ‘summer camp’. Clearly it was a successful decision as the charismatic, teenage protagonist Ulíses Sampiero (Juan Daniel García ‘Derek’ Trevino) is truly mesmerizing on screen.
Juan Daniel García Triveño as Ulíses Sampiero
Ulíses lives in the marginalized slums of Monterrey where he is the defacto leader of a motley group of Kolombiano street dancers called ‘Los Terkos’ (The Stubborns). Los Terkos have evolved a particular style and identity of their own, with brightly- coloured, baggy clothes and highly original, exotic, self-designed hairdos. A part of the Kolombiano sub-culture, they devised a way to combine the Cholo culture with Colombian music, by slowing down the beat of the cumbia (which is not that fast to begin with). The original ‘cumbia’ arose along the Colombian Caribbean coast while the slave trade was still in place. In the 1960s, it became hugely popular. Some historians think that its gentle small steps to the swaying lilts, comes from the limitations of movement caused by the slaves’ iron shackles. The haunting lyrics often talk of loss, of sadness, homesickness and pain, mixed with dreams of joy. To Los Terkos, it has become more than entertainment, it is a way of life. By slowing down the beat even further, Ulíses feels that he can make it ‘last longer’. Instinctively, he is aware of the ephemeral and transient quality of music and how it, and the moment in life, can vanish in a whisper.
‘I'm No Longer Here’ is a film with no clear linear narrative. Frías intercuts between the protagonist’s current and past ‘moments’ so they almost become one and the same. The film is an experience, to be lived rather than logically ‘understood’. There is a profound sadness in the beauty of the dances and the overall result of the collage effect is hypnotic.
Los Terkos
Back in Monterrey, Los Terkos beg for money from school kids, but only to save for an MP3 player so they can expand their repertoire. Set in 2011, during the harsh crackdown on the drug scene during the presidency of Felipe Calderón, the kids are surrounded by violence but they are not directly a part of it. Blood flows like a constant background, and they blot it out with the personas that they have created and they live in their bubble of freedom and self- expression in denial of the reality around them, thanks to the power of their obsession with the music.
Fernando Frías: - “In my opinion the measures of that government were badly planned and executed even more unwisely – it did more damage than good. The lads wear the baggy clothes that come from the cholos, the chicanos, to enlarge their persona… it’s also a film that tries to go against [prejudice in Mexico]. People assume that if you’re brown, poor and from that settlement, then you’re dangerous and ugly … So okay, I am marginalized, I am going to re-invent myself even if my family has let me down, my gang stands up for me! I change my name and my last name becomes the name of my street or my gang… so [there is ]a rejection of the marginalization and the creation of an identity- to show how fast youth dies in this atmosphere with the metaphor of the slowed-down cumbia (cumbia rebajada) and you don’t want the music to stop… because[after that] there is no future.”
Los Terkos
We discover early on that Ulíses older brother has already been drawn into a life of violence with the drug cartels, co-founding a gang known as ‘Los F’. But humanity is still painfully present when the leader of that group talks to Ulíses, who always defending his group, insisting it remains open to new, very young, members: “I wish I’d had someone like you to watch out for me when I was a kid.” Not long after, this very leader and fellow members are murdered (by another gang, Los Pelones) and a tragic misunderstanding forces Ulíses to flee the country to Queens in New York.
Confronted with the agonies of being an undocumented immigrant in the US, floundering in an alien environment and culture, he takes refuge in what he knows, thanks to his single possession, his MP3 player. But he finds it impossible to conform and dismally fails in his attempts to earn some money dance-busking. He is befriended by Lin (Angelina Chen) who is fascinated by him and the ‘identity’ he has created. She, however, tries hard to become ‘American’, being ‘alien’ in that she was born to immigrants herself.
Juan Daniel García Treviño and Angelina Chen
For Ulíses, identity is survival and he finds it impossible to conform and scoffs at Hip- Hop. Possibly because he sees it as a format that has forgotten its roots and become commercialized. It is as if he fears that abandoning and betraying his created ‘persona’ will end his existence. His music is the very air he breathes. The quality and feel of the dances feel so authentic that it is almost unbelievable how much had to be learnt for the production:
Fernando Frías: - “Juan Garcia didn’t know how to dance before we made the film… for example… he learnt it for the film. He never actually witnessed that movement because the film is about the experience of such a group … working with people from Monterrey. One of the biggest challenges was not the lack of talent but the complications of life over there, especially the young people … One of the richest experiences for me was… working with the kids and forming this gang, Los Terkos … they didn’t know each other and we had a summer camp to get them together … Juan was already playing music but it was like a discovery … he’s an incredible human being, not only a great performer and I deeply admire him.”
Juan Daniel García Triveño
Frías interplays layers of cultures. It is not only Ulíses who seeks refuge. Everywhere people are trapped in their cultures and communities and in the transient and ephemeral quality of time and existence, so everyone is, in a sense, isolated, divided by class, money or nationality.
The cinematography by Damián García is so stunning that place becomes a character in this film, both the sweeping takes of Monterrey and the roof top world in Queens. The camera does not play to gimmicks. There is a quiet observant stillness in the takes, a sense of tableaux, where the smallest detail plays a part. As in the famous Japanese director Ozu’s films, the camera never moves without a good reason. The result leaves you with a powerful and intimate sensation, where unadulterated honesty is potent.
Ulises in Monterrey
With the subject matter of this film, one might have expected the usual melodramatic formulas with action, love stories and even a rags-to-riches tales. But Frías is not about that, he takes us where we do not expect to go, breaking the rules as he plays with space and time. It is a coming-of-age story that remains suspended in a moment in time.
Guillermo del Toro describes the film succinctly: “…the film is successful because it portrays a very specific reality that existed briefly in a time and a space that is no more. It talks about things that are evanescent, that go away, both in terms of our culture and in our identity. It’s a movie about exile, it’s a movie that, by being particular, has become universal and it can connect with everyone because I think that the true artist [reveals] a specificity that comes from truth, and this movie is all truth… It tells you the story of the disenfranchisement of a young man in a society that changes right before his eyes. He lives for a moment. He’s an exile for a moment, finding himself a stranger in a strange land and then he comes back to his country to be an exile within that [once familiar] country, because what was once, has now changed.”
Los Terkos dance in the streets
‘I'm No Longer Here’ (2019) is available on NETFLIX.
Directed by Fernando Frías de la Parra
Produced by Gerardo Gatica, Alberto Muffelmann, Gerry Kim, Fernando Frías de la Parra
Written by Fernando Frías de la Parra
Starring Juan Daniel García Treviño / Yahir Alday / Angelina Chen
Cinematography Damián Garcia
Edited by Yibrán Asuad and Fernando Frías de la Parra
Production Co Panorama Global, PPW Films
