Machete (2010)

At the press conference for Machete (2010), co-director Robert Rodriguez was asked the inevitable question about the film’s political subtext.  For those of you unfamiliar with the film, it tells the story of a Mexican illegal immigrant (Danny Trejo) turned assassin who avenges the wrongs visited upon his race via violent acts that eventually spiral into a social revolution.  Given the subject matter, the journalist inquired if Rodriguez had specifically intended to make a statement regarding the controversial steps Arizona had taken in dealing with illegal immigration.  Rodriguez responded that “There are real issues going on in any movie…[Immigration is a] real issue and people want real answers….It’s just a backdrop.”   Rodriguez’s answer, both in the form of the press conference and in the form of the film, is disappointing.  As an homage to exploitation filmmaking, Rodriguez and co-director Ethan Maniquis’s film takes the form of a scratchy, blood soaked negative and attempts to critique the anti-immigration sentiment that has grown to define much of America which has a great deal of potential in theory.  Unfortunately for the film, the filmmakers, and the audience, the film does not nail the landing as its critique and ability to provide visceral thrills quickly dissipate by the end of its first hour.    

For those of you who have seen the original trailer attached to Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino’s Grindhouse (2007) or its current promotional material, the specific story beats of Machete are undoubtedly familiar.  The film begins when Machete (Danny Trejo), a Mexican federale, is left for dead after finding his family murdered at the hands of a bloated drug lord named Torrez (Steven Seagal).  Three years later, he finds himself on the other side of the border as an illegal worker.  Aided by a beautiful taco truck lady (Michelle Rodriguez), Machete accepts a job from Booth (Jeff Fahey) to assassinate Senator McClaughlin (Robert DeNiro).  McClaughlin’s platform is to stomp out all illegal immigrants via the erection of an electric fence across the border, so the target is an easy sell to Machete.  Yet, what is Booth’s motive for having the Senator whacked?  As Machete quickly finds out, the purpose of the hit was to frame an illegal with the objective of boosting both anti-immigration sentiment and McLaughlin’s poll numbers.  As the film progresses, we are introduced to a roster of characters including an immigration officer (Jessica Alba) whose Hispanic descent divides her loyalties, Machete’s Padre brother (Cheech Marin), Booth’s sex-pot, drug addict daughter (Lindsey Lohan), and a murderous border patrol agent (Don Johnson).  Needless to say, all the secondary characters have their own agendas that Machete discovers while disclosing the identity of the real mastermind behind his most recent twists of fate.  

The film starts strongly by interspersing criticisms of the Right Wing’s approach to illegal immigration with blood-soaked action sequences.  The initial result is visceral, hilarious, and thoughtful:  we are forced to acknowledge the Icky Thump economic ramifications of immigrant labor moments before Machete uses a man’s intestinal tract to climb down the side of a building.  Unfortunately, the center does not hold and both the sociological critique and the action sequences quickly reach the point of diminishing return.  The former falls apart, perhaps because of the need to introduce a large ensemble cast, when a pile of evidence is discovered that brings the plan of the antagonists’ newly formed Legion of Doom out into the open.  Essentially, Machete finds a DVD packed with infographics, videos, and incriminating photos by opening up a desk drawer.  For parties involved in a massive conspiracy with a lot of money and clout on the line, the reveal dumbfounded me.  First, why would organized criminals keep incriminating evidence around?  Secondly, why would they keep it in an easy to access location? 

The second issue to arise out of Machete’s discovery is that we became aware of the motive driving the conspiracy:  profit.  Essentially, the US wants to erect the fence to keep Mexican drugs out, driving the price of American drugs up.  While supply and demand makes sense, we soon discover that the fence is an international co-production.  This begs an essential question:  Where’s the payoff for those on the southern side of the border?  Essentially, we are asked to accept the fact that Mexican drug lords would go along with the border fence despite losing one of their largest markets.  Maybe these guys are more like a Confederacy of Dunces than a Legion of Doom.  From that point on, the integrity of the film’s plot crumbled like a stale, hard-shell tortilla.  Now, how can a critic actually expect an homage to exploitation films to have a plot that isn’t as full of holes as a wedge of Swiss cheese?  Well, generically motivated or not, the rationale that “Well, it’s a tribute to bad filmmaking, so the film has to be bad” doesn’t really hold up.  Why bother making it if the goal is to make a bad movie?  Moreover, low budget homage can be done extremely well (see The House of the Devil as a prime example).  Finally, the first-act of Machete sets the bar rather high, which makes its eventual nose dive extremely disappointing. 

This is too much of a leap to expect an exploitation film to be socially relevant given than the film’s main objective is to thrill with over the top action sequences and buckets of gore?  Perhaps.  However, for those audience members who feel compelled to see Machete for that reason, you’re going to be disappointed.  The film starts off really strongly with Machete storming a Mexican fort, decapitating baddies and using their severed limbs (which remain conveniently attached to weapons) to defeat others.  The filmmakers’ attention to choreography and film form in this opening scene, along with the aforementioned sequence with the intestines, is a pitch-black rush of laughter and horror.  Yet, an hour and a half in, that loving feeling is gone.  As the film draws to a close, the physical inability of one of the actors (you’ll figure it out when you see it) and the lack of imagination of behalf of the filmmakers turn the climax into an incomprehensible bore.  The most obvious example?  The final sword fight is generally shot in close-up, leaving us at a loss as to what the hell is going on between Machete and an antagonist. 

Both Machete and Grindhouse are filmic oddities, mid-budget homages to bargain basement filmmaking that, at times, feel like an ironic inside joke.  Are we supposed to feel anything for these characters?  Where’s the payoff in spending two-hours in a cinematic equivalent to a wax museum?  The ego-stroking joy of feeling like we can point out every instance of intertextuality?  By the time the opening credits came up on Machete, there was a glimmer of hope for the film.  Here was an ideological critique delivered in the wrapper of a niche film genre, similar to the Zapata westerns A Bullet of the General (1966) and Sergio Leone’s Duck, You Sucker (1971).  This could have been a return to progressive, exploitation filmmaking, providing some much needed food for thought in the late summer film season.  Yet, it ultimately fails in both of its objectives to criticize America’s hypocritical stance towards immigration (As Jack White once screamed, “Why don’t you kick yourself out, you’re an immigrant too!”) and to provide balls-out, over the top, action sequences.  In the end, Machete is a better film than Grindhouse, but that’s probably because the former is shorter, has more Danny Trejo (who is fun here), and does not include 45 minutes of vein young women getting drunk at the Alamo Drafthouse.