Perdiendo el norte by Nacho G. Velilla (review)

Nacho G. Velilla's third film, Perdiendo el norte (2015), is steeped in the social landscape of Spain's present. Just as his first film Fuera de carta (2008) tapped into the political, legal, and social changes surrounding same-sex marriage and adoption in Spain at the time, Perdiendo el norte similarly uses the country's current unemployment issues to create a poignant, if narratively unoriginal and somewhat simplistic, comedy-drama that deserves viewing for its interesting and entertaining exploration of these themes.

Spain's current financial and social situation is quickly summarized in the film's first minute, where the protagonist, Hugo (Yon González), explains in a voiceover how at twenty-seven, with two degrees and an MA in business administration, he is considered part of Spain's "lost generation." This is the generation expected to be best equipped to bring the country forward into a twenty-first-century world economy, but which has instead suffered the most from Spain's financial and political crisis. On screen, we fast-forward to Hugo and his best friend Braulio (Julián López), working in the kitchen of a shabby Turkish restaurant in Berlin, where they have emigrated due to the lack of jobs in Spain. The key theme of employment-emigration (another impact of Spain's current economic state) is further highlighted during the opening credits that follow this short prologue. A clever animation sequence, it follows two male stick figures running around the screen as they are pursued by graphs and pie charts, while words such as unemployment, crisis, debt, and corruption are superimposed on them. The sequence's clear message is further underlined by a modern version of Cecilia's 1975 Mi querida España song on the soundtrack; a song that was originally conceived as a veiled criticism of the socio-political situation under Franco's dictatorship. As Perdiendo el norte progresses, however, its initial on-point social and political analysis is diluted as the protagonists emigrate to Germany in search of jobs. The film then falls into a more conventional culture-clash narrative with obvious national stereotypes: Spaniards are unable to properly speak or learn another language, while Germany is portrayed as a cold climate busy "ruling" Europe's finances, the reserve of its people at odds with the tactile, party-loving "latino flavor." Throughout the film, the director plays with these clichés to varying degrees of success, but at times it verges on the crass, such as when a German woman gives money to Braulio simply for being Spanish, since the country is seen as a charity case for the rest of Europe.

In addition to these stereotypes, the script adds a formulaic "will-they-won't-they" storyline between Hugo and Carla (Blanca Suárez), another Spanish expat, that takes the film into romantic comedy territory rather than the light social drama it initially aspires to be. Ironically, here lies both the main problem of the film but also its saving grace, as much as this may sound like an oxymoron. The film mixes too many different genres and attempts to do too much: pay homage to the Spanish comedia casposa of Alfredo Landa and Mariano Ozores; follow a conventional romantic comedy formula; create a realistic social and political drama; while wrapping it all in a modern light-fare comedy package. This mix of comedy and observational social drama has mixed results. At times, it fails to satisfactorily explore either genre and can leave us under-whelmed. Yet, the blend of genres sometimes enables the filmmakers to raise serious social issues about Spain, and questions about its future, in a manner that is neither preachy nor somber. The director himself, in a 2014 interview with Spanish radio station Cadena Ser, stated that his intention was to emulate the formula of directors like Berlanga or Fernán Gómez, both of whom used comedy to highlight Spain's socioeconomic issues and make them more palatable to the audiences. Velilla's comparison with Fernando Fernán Gómez's...