A bad story and script sink this Mexican drama, which begins with a man walking down a street and stopping at a window to stare at a mannequin. He vomits blood and dies on the sidewalk. An autopsy reveals that he was poisoned. This opening has little to do with the rest of the film. A mother with two teenage sons and one teen daughter live in a place filled with clocks which are apparently there for repair by the patriarch of this strange family. Dad is soon out of the picture, and mom tells her offspring that they must carry on the ritual. This activity involves abducting strangers who will not have a fun time. Eating Raoul meets the Mexican Brady Bunch without Paul Bartel's sense of humor. The production value is slightly above that of a porn movie, and the acting is barely competent. There is no reason to watch this.
Review of We Are What We Are
