In the opening moments of Carmen, the debut feature from director Benjamin Millepied that is a reimagining of the opera of the same name, the world we are taken into feels both vast and destructive. The Mexican desert stretches in all directions, but the beauty of the landscape is compromised by a danger that is coming over the horizon. Death comes for a dancing woman who we only get a small glimpse of before she is gunned down, robbing the titular Carmen (Melissa Barrera) of her mother and sending her on a dangerous journey across the border. As she leaves the broken wreckage of her life burning behind her, it represents a harrowing yet promising start to a film that begins to feel increasingly small. Though often a visual feast for the eye, the spell it attempts to cast is compromised by pedestrian storytelling that never cuts below the surface. Partly a musical with some well-choreographed sequences and a strong score by Nicholas Britell, it never comes together into the emotional experience it could have been over its nearly two-hour runtime.
What proves to be the true inciting incident that will hang heavy over the film is another brutal shootout that feels like it could have ripped from the recent final season of Better Call Saul. It comes following an introduction to the adrift and out-of-work veteran Aidan (Paul Mescal) who reluctantly joins up with a group of racist vigilantes who have taken it upon themselves to violently patrol the border at night. When they stumble upon Carmen and a group who had been taking shelter in a truck, one of the men begins shooting at them. Bodies fall and Aidan seems to be stunned by what is happening. He tries to futilely defuse the situation without further bloodshed, despite being part of its cause by showing up with guns, before fatally shooting the man who had chased down Carmen and held her at gunpoint. This scene becomes the first of many that feels far too flippant and superficial in how it supposedly reckons with violence. Despite some flourishes to its presentation, it ends up feeling like a flatly conventional drama as Carmen and Aidan try to make it to Los Angeles to escape from the forces of the law chasing after them. There are the occasional diversions and challenges along the way, though it all feels like everything that happens has already been foretold.
The film has drawn some comparisons to the work of Terrence Malick which, while perhaps understandable on the surface, both sell that director short and overstate the accomplishments of this one. If you are looking for a film more worthy of such a comparison that also emerges with its own distinct vision, then the upcoming All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt is infinitely more deserving. That is obviously a high bar as not every debut feature can be such a masterpiece, but there is something that feels perpetually missing in Carmen. There are some gorgeous visuals as the characters make their way across the country, but they are lacking in a greater poetry. The ebb and flow of the film feels stilted, pulling us through scenes that end up becoming forced rather than natural. For every moment where it seems like it may commit more fully into the evocative and unrestrained sequences, we will pull back to a smattering of more conventional ones. Sometimes, this even occurs in the middle of a scene where dialogue serves little purpose other than to remind us of the clunky machinations of the plot. The deeper you try to look, the less emotional substance you’ll find reflecting back at you.
This comes despite the best efforts of Mescal and Barrera as they each, with rather little dialogue to speak of, are able to bring something more to their characters. While the film still doesn’t do much exploring of their characters beyond the broad strokes, both bring a real sense of presence through even the smallest of moments. Such praise is no surprise as each are talented with Mescal giving one of the best performances of last year in the spectacular Aftersun and Barrera proving to be one of the better parts of the recent Scream VI. The trouble is just that Carmen squanders this talent and the chemistry each of them had. Even as you feel an energy crackling between them, there is just something distant to the experience.
A slow-motion scene where the duo walks down the street with a prayer monologuing over the top plays out as more painfully detached than immersive. When a subsequent conversation initially shoots them from far away, you are left straining to catch even their expressions. While clearly a stylistic choice, it is done with seemingly little care or interest about the interiority of the characters. In an odd sense, it almost approached being similar to the recent series Copenhagen Cowboy though without the same command of tone. For every moment it seems like there may be something that it is about to grasp hold of, it slips through your fingers just as quickly. Even sporadic moments of magical realism lack any prevailing magic.
When this builds to a sudden fight sequence that doubles as a dance battle with the camera darting and moving around as the crowd stomps, there is a jolt of kineticism which it provides that still comes far too late. That this is followed by the film sending us and the characters scrambling for meaning makes it hard to see what it was all even for. The last shot in particular, while clearly what it was going to end on, still feels sudden. This is not due to the last act alone, but in how all that led to it lacked a greater resonance. While there are many promising pieces being assembled, with arresting visuals bolstered by the performances of Mescal and Barrera, any awe to be had in Carmen becomes dashed by its own emptiness.
Rating: C-
Carmen is in theaters now.