El Violin

Based on various Mexican uprisings from the 20th century and the story of violinist Carlos Prieto, El Violin keeps its time and location obscure. Soldiers pack the latest military hardware, but the oppressed peasants are from a time long past.

Rural musicians Don Plutarco (Tavira) and his son Genaro (Taracena) and grandson Lucio (Garibaldi) play in a region tyrannized by roaming military dictators.

Genaro is a high-ranking lieutenant in a guerilla militia, planning to strike against the well-financed enemy. A military ambush against his village causes the people to flee, leaving behind a cache of ammo needed by the poorly equipped peasant army.

Don Plutarco, playing on his image as a benign octagenarian violinist, earns the trust of a captain (Gama), entertaining him with music and smuggling ammunition out in his violin case.

Opening with a brief but shattering scene of torture and rape that echoes through the film, El Violin is an angry, nail-biting suspenser.

Vargas never allows the pace to slacken, employing a tight, perceptive script and the expressive performances of his actors with minimum fuss for maximum effect.

Shooting in stark monochrome, the non-actors who populate the background and glimpses of atrocity providing an unsettling documentary realism.

Tavira, an extraordinary figure who lost his hand aged 13 yet still plays the violin, is an irascible, lively lead despite his years, who justly picked up a best actor award at Cannes 2006 in this, his debut role.

His scenes with professional actor Gama are riveting games of bluff and double bluff, while the scenes with his son and grandson provide necessary warmth to the grim tale.

Wisely eschewing a happy ending for a satisfyingly dark denouement, Vargas includes a quietly powerful epilogue as a reminder that while music survives so does hope.

Rob Daniel