Film review: Nuestro Tiempo (Director: Carlos Reygadas)
By Sascha Krieger
A muddy lake. The camera moves across until it encounters a group of girls on a raft. Lying, chatting, lazily. Then they’re attacked by a group of boys, thrown off, playfully. The camera moves on. On the shore, it finds a group of teenagers, engaged in the gossip and banter and awkwardness of blossoming sexuality. The camera-eye’s journey continues. It finds farmers, farm workers, engaged in work, post-work encounters, the small talk of tender, playful, awkward, cautious sexual politics, the innocence of the children, the curiosity of the adolescents lost. Nuestro Tiempo, meaning „Our Time“, doesn’t just take its time, it creates its own. It’s non-linear, circular, a cirvle of attraction, holding back, resentment, blossoming in the young, poisoning the older. A time that doesn’t get off the ground, that gets stuck, in the desired and the unsaid, the reckless and the considerate, both equally inadequate to what is not and will never be rational. As the bright hope of summer, tinged with a hint of paleness, makes way to the confusion of an almost constant, often misty, somewhat opaque twilight, the film sets out, slowly, in suspended time, to explore the murky, unbridgeable gap that lies between humans, even and particularly those that claim to be „together“.