Review: The Cascade (Mexico) by Pablo Delgado Sanchez "masterfully visualizes an immaterial feeling"

Aman (Daniel Haddad) is told by his doctor that his tear ducts are inverted, meaning he lives his life constantly crying, but no one can tell. The doctor’s solution? Find out what makes him cry.

The tears have collected in Aman’s feet, forcing him to walk with a crude limp, each step accompanied by a squelch. We watch his routine to and from his office day-by-day, only to lay in bed awake every night. His coworkers seem oblivious to his internal plight, as does his wife (Yurira del Valle). “What did the doctor say?” she asks. He doesn’t respond. The film utilizes sound to convey the man’s turmoil. As his wife chats about their home life, her voice becomes muffled, as though submerged in water, before completely fading away.

The film achieves a dim, drab visual style that acutely evokes the subject matter. With muted colors and rooms blanketed in shadow, it’s like Aman’s world is purposely blocking out the light. Sweeping tracking shots and pushouts craft a vast environment of despair. When Aman stands in his kitchen, he’s dwarfed by the scope of the room. The score by Antonio Castillo, which at times ticks along like an antique clock, adds to the atmosphere of impending, suffocating dread.

The Cascade explores how society has, for far too long, forced men to internalize their emotions. The film masterfully visualizes an immaterial feeling, that of sadness, and turns it into a character of its own. It addresses the dark reality that faces so many; they’re hurting, but they don’t know why. In challenging this reality, the film champions a future where emotional openness isn’t something to be ashamed of, but celebrated.

Review by Shane McKevitt for Venice Film Week