‘Without Blood’ Review: Salma Hayek Cannot Save Angelina Jolie’s Inert Revenge Melodrama [TIFF]

TORONTO – Perhaps it’s the subject matter she has gravitated to or the glare of the global spotlight, but it is embarassing how little respect Angelina Jolie has received as a filmmaker. Three of her first four narrative films as a director, “Unbroken,” “In The Land of Honey,” and “First They Killed My Father,” have demonstrated considerable cinematic skills. And, yet, when female directors are touted or pitched for projects you never hear her name. Despite more clear evidence of her impressive eye, it’s disheartening to reveal that her latest effort, “Without Blood,” will not improve her standing in the cultural zeitgeist.

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An adaptation of Alessandro Baricco‘s 2002 novel, and written by Jolie herself, the movie primarily centers on two middle-aged Spanish souls with an unexpected connection. When Nina (Salma Hayek) buys a lottery ticket at the newspaper stand of the older Tito (Demián Bichir) he doesn’t immediately recognize her. But when he does, and she invites, well, insists he join her for coffee, he knows that the angel of death he’s dreaded has finally arrived.

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Decades earlier, after the end of the Spanish Civil War, a rogue soldier, Salinas (Juan Minujín), and two of his cohorts arrived at the home of Manuel Roaca (Alfredo Herrera), a doctor who served on the side of the losing Nationalists. Their intentions were deadly, but they were unaware that Roaca’s teenage son and young daughter were on the premises. And that initially gives them pause. Salinas, who believed Roaca was intentionally mutilating injured soldiers, did not want this confrontation to take place in front of innocents. Still, when things get out of hand, he gets his revenge. Even if collateral damage comes with it. Then again, unbeknownst to him, the little girl, Nina, escaped. Oh, and as you may have guessed, one of Salina’s lackeys was a young Tito (Ariel Perez Lima) whose rifle shot was partially responsible for the death of Nina’s father.

Without Blood

Over almost 90 minutes of screen time, Nina and Tito sit across from each other telling tales they have heard or experienced over the years since. Tragically, Nina’s life has played out like an epic melodrama where a teenage marriage to a powerful local warlord is almost an afterthought once her three sons betray her by committing her to an institution (the movie leaves it vague if she needs the treatment or not). And Tito? Once he saw that Salinas had been mysteriously poisoned, he knew his days, months, or years were numbered.

As compelling as the stories Nina and Tito share are, this structure is anything but. Despite continual flashbacks, their conversation is often excruciatingly claustrophobic and lifeless. This is partially because, shockingly, Bichir is unable to give his character the gravitas or depth to make him compelling whatsoever. Hayek is doing her absolute best and is often the only reason to keep watching, but there are only so many times Jolie can cut back to her twirling her teacup or taking a swig of a cigarette. Objectively, we’re not sure how many other actors or filmmakers could pull this scenario off. It was seemingly potent on paper, but behind the camera, it just plays out like a massive miscalculation.

The result is a melodrama where any sense of tension fades the longer Nina and Tito speak. This is unfortunate because Jolie delivers a fantastic prologue when Roaca’s home is attacked. The Victorian-era house, surrounded by hundreds of yards of dried grass, is a striking visual set piece. Jolie lays out the initial confrontation with captivating framing (it might be some of cinematographer Seamus McGarvey‘s best work in over a decade) and deft pacing. There is a vision at work here. She lets Minujín, in particular, soak up the spotlight in a riviting turn that teases what the movie could have been. But then the film changes focus and becomes stuck at a table where two characters talk around each other in circles. And when you realize you neither care for them nor their stories, it all fades to dust. [C-]

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