It'd be nice to think that Under
The Same Moon director Patricia Riggen and writer Ligiah Villalobos are secret
masters of their craft—that their film's tics between mawkish
manipulation and raw emotion are a purposeful experiment in breaking down
viewers' analytical faculties until they surrender to the experience. More
likely, though, it's just hard to handle material this cloying with any kind of
consistent dignity. Their story about a Mexican mother and son yearning for
each other across the border is at its best as a personal story rather than a
political tract, but it's so tied to stereotypes and broad contrivance that
there's little room for honest emotion to leak through.
Kate del Castillo stars as an illegal Mexican
immigrant working as an L.A. maid; for the past four years, she's been saving
up to have her now-nine-year-old son (Adrian Alonso) brought to America. But
both of them are weary of their long separation. (Mom, via phone: "You need
anything, sweetheart?" Son: "You!") So when Alonso's home situation changes for
the worse, he hits the dangerous road to L.A. on his own.
The film—part road movie, part Trade-esque issue film, part The
Incredible Journey with a kid protagonist in place of cute animals—depends
heavily on Alonso's charisma. Fortunately, he delivers; he's a precocious,
perky kid who plays it straight, without cutesiness or mugging. But the film
isn't as restrained. His picaresque
journey—getting smuggled across the border by America
Ferrera, harvesting tomatoes with migrant workers, washing dishes in a
roadside diner, caroming around in a van full of mariachi performers, getting
chased by the thuggish INS—crams far too much incident into a small
space, turning the story into an awkwardly broad, shallow metaphor for the
immigrant experience. Meanwhile, the filmmakers wring every possible drop of
pathos out of del Castillo's angst, her exploitation
by a bitchy, overprivileged white employer, and the possibility that she might
have to marry a stranger to get a green card.
Under The Same Moon has its moments,
particularly in a sweet magical-realist sequence and a surprisingly restrained
ending. The relationship between Alonso and curmudgeonly migrant worker Eugenio
Derbez is winning on the sheer charm of the performances, even as it channels
countless "orphan child wins the heart of cranky loner" films. But
unimaginative direction (apart from the peculiar Italian neo-realist accordion
soundtrack) and an overstuffed plot keep Moon bland and shallow, a
harmless feel-good movie that tries to tell audiences what it's like to be a
victimized immigrant, and mostly winds up telling them what it's like to have
their heartstrings yanked, gratuitiously and often.