Oblivion

This astonishing documentary takes a contemplative look at Peru’s recent political history via members of the service and street classes who reside in the capital city of Lima. Bartender Jorge Kanashiro perhaps speaks for the discontent of many when he describes his “coup d’état” against current president Alan Garcia: sneaking enough alcohol into the “orange juice only” politician’s drink that he collapsed at a commemorative function. Yet the Lima-born Honigmann makes sure to individualize Kanashiro’s outrage—she never exploits her subjects to prove a rigid point, but allows them a sensitive space within which to express their varied perspectives.
The film’s emotional fulcrum is a teenage shoe-shiner named Henry, who confesses to the director that he has no dreams or memories, good or bad. Henry has no history or prospects; his life is predicated on day-to-day survival. Such is the life of the mind in a country that has seen its fair share of corrupt leaders come and go (and, in Garcia’s case, come again). Honigmann’s tapestry-in-motion gives a complicated voice to the oppressed while cherishing the importance of even the tiniest action, be it the proper preparation of the national drink (Pisco sour) or a magic-hour cartwheel through a crosswalk.
• Now playing.
• More film reviews
•
• More Film articles



