For more than twenty years the films of Ruiz have led us into the fields of uninhibited delirium, free associations, and intricate games of collage. Ruiz, paying no heed to conventions, leads his audience into a labyrinth without a map, without warning and without an Ariadne allowed to help them retrace their steps. “Regulars only” seems to be the imperative which thrusts us into his creative world. However, it is a playful attitude that he proposes. Labyrinth, yes, but devouring monster, no — except the one we assemble ourselves from the fragments of mirrors that Ruiz has left scattered on the road. These fragments, their selection and random order, is indeed the art of Ruiz.
Cofralandes, part three: Museums and Clubs in the Antarctic is a title that indicates a sort of joke: in fact, everything in the piece seems to happen in Northern Chico and in La Serena and its surroundings, although there are also scenes in Santiago and some images are set in London. But that does not matter much, since the spectator has been placed in the classic predicament of seeking landmarks has abundant work to do just to grasp the sprawling images in order to give them a minimal sense that will allow at least the prospect of a laugh, though it will be difficult to go beyond a bemused smile. Chapter 3 of Cofralandes seems to hide more twists and turns that the previous chapters and not all of them lead nowhere. Rather it is an enjoyable maze with dead ends and unexplained inconsistencies, even more poetic [than previous chapters]. There are plenty of nods to Creole culture, a visit to the Sandwich Museum brings Javier Maldonado, a regular performer Ruiz, to preside over a choir with a penitential litany that seems written by Nicanor Parra. But the sequence of clues [linking these disparate sounds and visions] is too knotted, as if the key [to the labyrinth] were three decades out of date. The suggestive scenery, music, and brilliant photography rough out relations between inside and outside: the desert and bedsheets; storms and shadows; trains that are described as something else,; Violeta Parra singing “The Words Redoubled,” a succession of rhymes whose primary purpose is more verbal play than realistic significance. Just what the Cofralandes series aims for: a game for the fun of it.
861MB | 1:05:00 | 656×480 | avi
Subtitles:Spanish hardcoded subtitles for some French