The Family (2017) User Reviews

Stark Realism in This Unrelenting Drama

[larrys3 · 6/10 · 28 September 2018]

Set on the outskirts of Caracas, Venezuelan filmmaker Gustavo Rondon Cordova makes his feature film debut here, with this brutally realistic movie.

Andres (Giovanny Garcia) and his 12-year-old son Pedro (Reggie Reyes) are eking out an existence in a poor and crowded neighborhood. When a boy with a gun tries to rob Pedro and his friends of their cell phones, a scuffle ensues and the boy is stabbed and left for dead on the streets.

Realizing the imminent danger of retaliation from the boy's family, Andres forces Pedro, who is rebellious and headstrong, to flee with him. They will be forced to go from job to job to make enough money to survive, and sleep where and when they can. But the time they are forced to be with each other may provide a chance for Andres and Pedro to move a little closer.

The acting is most realistic here so you feel like you're right there on the streets with the two protagonists. However, this film is not for the faint of heart as the depressive and stark tone is unrelenting, and don't expect a kumbaya ending either.

Social realism in Venezuela

[Morten_5 · 7/10 · 15 November 2017]

28th STOCKHOLM INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL. DAY 2, NOV 9th 2017. Swedish premiere.

‪Harsh, brutal and engaging, it tells the story of a father and his 12-year-old son living in the poorer parts of Caracas, Venezuela.‬

‪Written and directed by Gustavo Rondón Córdova, "La familia" (2017) is his feature film debut, after five previous short films. According to The Hollywood Reporter, it was the first film from Venezuela to ever be part of the Cannes Critics' Week competition.‬

Family Poetry

[EdgarST · 10/10 · 8 December 2019]

The Venezuelan drama "The family" has the characteristics that I most look for in a film in these years: brevity, transparency, a plot of interest, aesthetic dignity; design, planning and execution of accurate plans (example: the leading child takes a motorcycle ride, the camera follows the motorcycle that suddenly enters a tunnel and the cameraman, without stopping, lets motorcycle and passengers move away) , all of which transpires self-assurance, alternating still, fixed, observational shots, with vigorous, agile, electrical ones.

This is how the film begins: children in a poor Caracas neighborhood improvise a game, throwing on the wall what looks like a ball, they quarrel, play, shout, compete; the girls arrive, so begin the excitement, the "vacilón" (fun) and the erotic play (all of them not beyond 12), they escape to the roof, witness the city, the location of a drama that seems without truce. Pedro, the protagonist, is a child of the street, reckless and emboldened, who lives alone with Andrés, his father, a man poor in resources and imagination, who makes a living as a bricklayer, waiter and thief, who arrives with the sun to the apartment in the block, exhausted, with almost no exchange of dialogue or life with his son. There is never any mention of the absent mother, only a photo that Peter shows fleetingly or the mention of a pleasant memory. And suddenly, the scenario explodes: another neighborhood boy, gun in hand, tries to assault Pedro and his friend Johnny, and tragedy happens. They have to run away.

Andrés and Pedro's escape will trigger an adjustment of accounts, mutual understanding and the possible start of a somewhat happy stage in the lives of father and son. The child now knows death, knows his own potential for violence and takes the reins of their destinies, facing a father who seems already defeated in the daily battle to live, to survive, with dignity. Everything is said, but without psychological verbosity or analysis of the material dispossession of the great masses of Latin America. There is no need to delve into that: all of us who live in this space of the world know; and those who deny it or hide from it are hypocrites.

A beautiful portrait of paternal-filial love in which there is no room for tenderness, caress or terms of endearment, but that conveys the warmth of affection that, at least, the father feels for his child. An excellent opera prima, which I don't know if it's on Netflix or whatever, but if you can see it, please do, don't miss it. It is better than most of the L.A. stuff (I will not give up on this) that we are offered in cinemas.

Excellent!

[graham-harvey · 9/10 · 30 August 2021]

This film is a reminder of the imbalances in the world of economic & security. It is harsh. It is edgy & gritty. It is not to be missed. An excellent reminder of how so many live in the world of imbalance. Your humanity will leave you wishing to end such situations of brutality & unfairness. The scenes at the party contrast the gulf between the haves & have nots.

An essential Latin American film

[MargaretW-46 · 24 April 2023]

A certain kind of roughhousing is natural when children play. The Venezuelan film The Family portrays this perfectly in the first scenes when comradeship among boys is expressed with inoffensive name calling and harsh treatment, either through street games or pranks. The kids are fearless or pretend to be, while gangs live nearby and bullets casing are easy to find on the streets. This is Caracas, one of the most dangerous cities in the world. In this context, Pedro (Reggie Reyes), a 12-year-old boy, spends almost his entire time playing outdoors with other kids. His father, Andrés (Giovanni García), is often working late in one of his many jobs (house painter and waiter). They live in a block near a slum, and the mother is probably dead and barely mentioned.

When Pedro and one of his friends are assaulted by another kid, they defend themselves, but the fight escalates, and the attacker is seriously injured. Andrés knows that this situation would bring misfortune to his son; Pedro will suffer retaliation from the gangsters from the shantytown, where the injured youth is from, and so Andrés orders his son to gather his things, and they leave their apartment immediately to avoid retaliation. Pedro doesn't understand the father's decision and confronts his presumed cowardice. The difference between the adult and child is how the two perceive fear.

Venezuela's official and well-deserved submission for foreign-language Oscar, The Family is a solid and strong debut by director Gustavo Rondón Córdova. It is no secret that Venezuela is a country in crisis, with a repressive and corrupt government that resembles more a dictatorship. For Venezuelans, the economically unstable situation has reduced the quality of life. Unlike most Venezuelan movies centered on crime, Andrés and Pablo represent the common people, whose most valuable victory is daily survival.

Almost everybody is at the edge of the law because they have to look out for themselves and advantage of any situation at the expense of others. (Andrés resells alcohol he steals from the parties he caters.) This is a sad but accurate depiction of life in Venezuela: Andrés looks constantly over his shoulders or stops on a corner while the cops are passing. Rondón Córdova presents the family unit as the most human and steadfast resource against succumbing entirely to moral decay, and as the last space where Andrés and Pedro can find true loyalty, even if their understanding of each other is imperfect.

The film's greatest virtue is the way it conveys Venezuelans' hard situation without making a sensational statement. There is no a direct political tone in any scene or dialogue, but small details speak volumes about what is wrong in the country. The movie is also easy to digest thanks to an effective story, and it becomes deeper as it moves along.