Part Of The Picture: The Leopard’s Immutable Spots

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THE LEOPARD’S IMMUTABLE SPOTS

MAR 6, 2010 – THE SHOWBOATING CENTREPIECE OF THIS foreign-film Oscar nominee is a five-minute tracking shot that begins with the camera swooping upon a soccer field where a game is in progress, goes on to single out federal justice agents Benjamín Esposito (Ricardo Darín) and Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella) amongst the thousands of cheering spectators (they are interested in nabbing a rape-murder suspect, also amidst the audience), and ends with a dizzyingly staged chase that results in the apprehension of this suspect. The preceding scene, by contrast, is completely static, with the camera observing people in a bar in quietly animated discussion, mainly Benjamín and Pablo and a notary named Andretta (David Di Napoli) – but the dynamism comes from the way Pablo, with the help of letters stolen from the suspect’s home, painstakingly unearths a key to the puzzle, without which there would be little excuse for the ensuing soccer-field bravura.

Benjamín strides up to Pablo in the bar, irate that the latter has, without proper authorisation, taken the letters (which are evidence in the case) outside the federal office – but Pablo isn’t rattled. He possesses the tranquil demeanor of a seeker who’s seen the sign. He urges his colleague, “Sit down for a second. Sit down and take it easy. Know why we can’t find him, Benjamín? Because we’re stupid.” Benjamín nods in exasperation. Pablo looks down at the letters and continues, “Twelve letters. 31 pages…” Benjamín interrupts impatiently, “Can we go?” Pablo replies, “Hold on a second. My mind exploded, I couldn’t stop. I kept asking myself, ‘Why can’t we find this guy?’ He always vanishes. Where is he? And I started thinking about guys. Guys in general. Not just this guy, but… Guys in general. ‘The’ guy. The guy can do anything to be different. But there’s one thing he can’t change. Not him, not you, not anybody.”

“Take me, for example. I’m young, I have a good job, a wife who loves me… And like you always say, I keep throwing my life away in dives like this. Many times you’ve asked, ‘Why are you here, Pablo? Why?’ You know why, Benjamín? Because it’s my passion. I love coming here, getting drunk, slugging it out with anyone who pisses me off… I love it.” After employing himself as an example, Pablo moves on to his increasingly intrigued colleague. “Just like you, Benjamín. There’s nothing you can do to get Irene out of your head. She’s dying to marry someone else, her desk drawer is full of wedding dress magazines. She got engaged, had a party, everything. But you keep waiting for the miracle, Benjamín.” Wanting to explain why these men keep doing the things that they do, in an apparently helpless (and endless) cycle, Pablo walks up to Andretta and says, “How’s it going, notary? How are you? This is that friend I mentioned, Esposito.”

After introductions, Pablo comes to the point. “Let’s begin with the first letter from our friend…” He reads out a single sentence. “I swear it rained so hard I looked worse than Oleniak that night,” Pablo turns to the notary, who explains, “Juan Carlos Oleniak. First played for Racing Academy in ‘60. In ‘62 he went to Argentinos Juniors, and back to Racing in ‘63. In a classic match with San Lorenzo, he got pushed and fell face-first into the ditch. He was soaked.” And thus, the first steps are taken towards solving the mystery. Like Benjamín and Pablo, we were wondering who the Oleniak mentioned in the letter was and what his connection to rain was, and the notary has cleared the fog with this soccer anecdote. Pablo reads out another portion, “I’ll send for you. We make a great team. Anido by himself isn’t the same as Anido with Mesias.” Again, the notary sheds light on these cryptic allusions, “Anido and Mesias, backs on the club that won it all in ‘61. Negri at goalie, Anido and Mesias. Blanco, Peano and Sacchi. Corbatta, Pizzuti, Mansilla, Sosa and Belen.”

The routine continues. Pablo reads, “Don’t worry about me. I’m like Manfredini, not Bavastro.” The notary explains, “Pedro Waldemar Manfredini. Racing paid peanuts for him and he ended up being an extraordinary player. Incredible. Julio Bavastro, right forward. Played only two matches between ‘62 and ‘63 without scoring.” Pablo reads, “I don’t want to end up like Sanchez.” The notary explains, “He can only mean the goalie, Ataulfo Sanchez. Eternal benchwarmer. He played only 17 matches between ‘57 and ‘61.” Having laid out the grounds on which to construct his hypothesis, Pablo demands, “Notary, what is Racing to you?” The notary replies, “A passion.” Pablo asks, “Even after nine years without a championship?” The notary shrugs, “A passion is a passion.” Pablo turns to Benjamín and explains why there’s only one place to look for their suspect, and that’s the soccer stadium. “You see, Benjamín? A guy can change anything. His face, his home, his family, his girlfriend, his religion, his God. But there’s one thing he can’t change. He can’t change his passion.”

El Secreto de Sus Ojos (2009, Spanish; aka The Secret in their Eyes). Directed by Juan José Campanella. Starring Ricardo Darín, Soledad Villamil, Pablo Rago.

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Posted in: Cinema: Foreign