When it comes to biopics, they are usually centered around either people who are already famous or unsung heroes. You need to be part of a war, someone who has moved mountains to get to the love of your life, or made some insane scientific breakthrough to be on the radar of budding or established filmmakers. If somebody has written a book, or even an article, about an individual’s adventures, and if that has reached enough people to generate some kind of interest, then they have a good chance of getting their life story turned into a movie or a TV show. If not, well, you’ll be considered insignificant. But have you ever been to a roadside cafe, the movie theater, or just the common space in your colony and encountered someone who has lived a long life filled with adventures that are unbelievable enough to enthrall you? I have, quite a few times, and wondered, “Why don’t we have a movie on this guy?” Confesiones Chin Chin is an amalgamation of many such strange stories about seemingly insignificant people, and it’s worth a watch.
Carolina Perelman’s Confesiones Chin Chin, which she has co-written with Samuel Rotter, is set in the Cazador bar in Madrid, where 2 actors, Vicente and Lolo, are looking to find their big break in the film industry. As they talk about what they want or don’t want from life, their focus keeps shifting from one customer to another, thereby giving us a peek into the journeys and experiences of all these eclectic people. First on the list is Roberto Gluckstein, one of the hottest actors on the market who has worked with one of the most popular directors in the indie space, Filippa Valledelvento, on a mockumentary about the complexities of filmmaking. Then there’s Sofia, who has painted an image of being in a perfect marriage in front of her friends. But the truth of the matter is that she is deeply unsatisfied in her marital relationship and wants to explore greener pastures. Last but not least, we see Fran and K rehearsing for a performance and running into a bit of a hiccup with their routine. Whether or not these isolated stories will enrich Lolo and Vicente’s worldview is what forms the crux of the story.
The individual stories and the narrative of Confesiones Chin Chin as a whole are about the various shades of storytelling. The movie within the movie, Portrait of a Painter, is like a meta-commentary on the complexities of filmmaking, which shows how difficult it is to capture something authentic. Given how Perelman’s film is all about freewheeling conversations, that “pseudo-documentary” sort of doubles as a peek into what might’ve gone into its making, thereby giving you an added sense of appreciation for the art form. Sofia’s arc shows that, despite not being a professional storyteller or filmmaker, a lot of us create narratives that we want to dwell in to escape from the one that we live in. Without thinking about it actively, we partake in intricate worldbuilding, craft mind-bending sequences, and immerse ourselves in it to deal with the mundanity of whatever is going on in real life; and that’s what movies are all about. As for Fran and K’s segment, they basically drive home the film’s message about the importance of collaboration and how good art can’t be made if you and your crew aren’t on the same wavelength.
Everything about Confesiones Chin Chin feels very casual and conversational. The effortlessness with which Perelman shifts from one short story to another is pretty fascinating to witness. And the tempo and pacing of each of these narratives are brisk and sort of hypnotic. Regardless of whether you’re watching the film in a theater or from the comfort of your home, you’ll feel transported to that bar in Madrid. And I feel that is a very difficult thing to achieve. I mean, it’s an uphill task for any film to immerse the audience in its world. But making it look like everything is happening in this spontaneous and random fashion, that too for nearly an hour, is even more challenging. Perelman has stated in an interview with Film Fugitives that Portrait of Jason, Tampopo, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s filmography influenced her heavily during the making of her film, and you can clearly see that. By the way, there’s a lot of egg play throughout its runtime, so if you are squeamish about food being desecrated for the sake of art, well, then you have been warned. Also, if you get mushy very easily, there’s an extended segment put together using home videos of the actors’ childhood, which will certainly make you teary-eyed.
There’s something really disarming about that home video segment in Confesiones Chin Chin. It makes things a little too personal. Yes, in this section of the review, I am supposed to analyze and critique the performances of all the actors. But now that I have seen them as little babies, I can’t exactly bring myself to be too harsh about it. Maybe I am getting old, and the realization that life is so fleeting is making me soft. Anyway, Enrique Gimeno is great, and so is Fernando Bodega. Their chemistry is the heart and soul of the film. Angela Aguilar shows such range as you see her transforming Sofia from this demure individual to a sensual beast and back again. Nacho Scorza is darkly comedic. I mean, the things that he does with what seems like a papier-mâché statue of a butt will have your jaw on the floor, while the context of that moment will make you cringe in pain. Fran Velez and Ksenia Guinea are quite hilarious as they argue in the most expressive way imaginable. Sara Batuecas, Mara Ballesteros, and the rest of the supporting cast are all excellent.
Carolina Perelman has admitted that all of the stories that we see in Confesiones Chin Chin are true; while some of them have come from confessions between friends, others are from interviews with the actors. And we get to see only a fraction of these spellbinding tales. Imagine the kind of movies and TV shows we could’ve gotten if we got to know more. There are several films out there that are just about one or several engaging conversations: the Before trilogy, 12 Angry Men, Locke, Man from Earth, Glorious, The Courtroom, One Night in Miami, Yannick, and Late Night with the Devil. And as amazing as all of these titles are, I don’t think any of them have inspired me to go out into the world and seek out stories. I’m sure there are so many people out there with mind-blowing stories to tell; they just don’t have anybody to tell them to. I want to hear them so that they don’t feel like their adventures are insignificant because they aren’t a cricketer, scientist, or war veteran. I don’t know if I can condense them into a film like Confesiones Chin Chin, but I’ll try to make sure that every story reaches its audience. By the way, if you have a story to tell, no matter how short or big it is, the comments section is open; type away.
