Cuadrilátero

Minimalism is a filmmaking style that most moviegoers either love or hate. Admittedly, it’s not one of my favorites, as I feel that it’s often somewhat (excuse the pun) “lacking.” Occasionally, though, I get pleasantly surprised, as is very much the case with writer-director Daniel Rodríguez Risco’s latest feature offering. This suspenseful minimalist domestic thriller tells the tale of an upper middle class family whose matriarch, Adriana (Lizet Chavez), is inexplicably obsessed with everything in her life being based on multiples of four. Her family unit, for example, consists of her, her husband, Alfredo (Gonzalo Molina), and her two children, Lucía (Valentina Saba) and Felipe (Fausto Molina), who lives in a home whose décor sports an undeniable preponderance of squares and rectangles. However, Adriana’s comfort level is decidedly upset when she gives birth to a third child, Tomás (Amil Mikati), because something in her existence in a multiple of five is simply beyond something she can’t handle. As a consequence, her youngest is intentionally marginalized, excluded from family activities and meals, forced to live inside a cramped armoire. But Tomás eventually grows tired of the ostracism and rebels against his relatives, who are subsequently quietly shunned in the same way he once was, a practice allowed to continue as long as the prototypical multiple of four is maintained. This, in turn, sets off a firestorm of retribution amongst the family members – including nasty physical violence against one another – to maintain the prevailing quadruple balance. However, this behavior soon takes a toll on the family, so all concerned willingly agree to take turns purposely disappearing from view from the others, voluntarily locking themselves in an oversized storage trunk until their turn is up. This arrangement isn’t much better, though, as these shifts of “nonexistence” begin seriously disrupting their lives outside the home. So how will this bizarre and puzzling approach to life play out? That’s what remains to be seen in a story that continually evolves, keeping viewers guessing about what’s coming next. This strange, creepy little narrative may prompt some audience members to wonder what’s the point of all this, and the director never supplies any definitive answers, skillfully keeping matters intentionally ambiguous. Nonetheless, the picture can certainly be interpreted in multiple ways with multiple messages, including the perils of limitation and excessive close-mindedness, the devastating effects of OCD when carried too far, and a social and economic metaphor for the effects of inequality and exclusion (especially the suffering of the have-nots in the face of the haves), among other possibilities. The minimalist approach used in telling this story works quite effectively, particularly in the production design, the cinematography and the scene settings, all of which are meticulously set up and executed. These elements are further enhanced by the purposely sparse dialogue, moody atmospheric score, deft film editing and fine performances of the cast, many of which recall the portrayals of characters from director Wes Anderson’s work. Admittedly, the pacing could stand to be stepped up somewhat in the first 30 minutes, but, once the picture finds its legs, it’s off to the races. Moreover, the conclusion is a tad on the predictable side as well, but these minor shortcomings aren’t enough to significantly detract from the overall quality of this quirky and understated production. “Quadrilateral” may be somewhat challenging to find outside of the Latino film festival circuit at the moment, but here’s hoping it at least earns a streaming release at some point, especially for cinephiles who truly believe that “less is more” when it comes to effective filmmaking.