The directorial debut of Cary Joji Fukunaga, Sin Nombre, is an early demonstration of the filmmaker’s gifts, revealing a lyricism and visual style that elevate the material well beyond melodrama.
The Spanish-language film interweaves the stories of two young people who eventually cross paths. In Chiapas, Mexico, Casper (Edgar Flores) is not your typical hood. This quiet and sensitive soul loves his girlfriend (Karla Cecilia Alvarado), but also happens to be part of the brutal Mara Salvatrucha gang. His gang allegiance is put to the test when one of its leaders, Lil’ Mago (Tenoch Huerta Mejía), rapes and accidentally kills Casper’s girlfriend .
Fear prevents Casper from reacting, but things finally reach a breaking point when he joins Lil’ Mago and a young gangbanger, Smiley (Kristyan Ferrer), to rob immigrants on a train heading from Central America to the U.S.-Mexico border. Lil’ Mago accosts a 14-year-old Honduran named Sayra (Paulina Gaitan). Casper rescues the girl and makes himself a target in the process. He remains on the train, ostracized by the other passengers who hope to avoid further trouble on an already-treacherous journey. Casper’s sole ally is Sayra, who befriends him much to the frustration of her father and uncle.
An often-dazzling mix of grittiness and visual splendor, Sin Nombre does not whitewash the viciousness of Casper’s thug life. In the opening minutes, the Mara Salvatrucha initiate 12-year-old Smiley into the gang by pummeling him into a bloody mess. There is no shortage of misery in Sin Nombre, but its milieu of poverty and despair is allayed, and nearly romanticized, by fluid camerawork and picturesque views of the Mexico countryside. A number of scenes – the ghostly images of railway lines at night, an afternoon rain shower – are evocative and powerful.
Fukunaga’s foray into melodrama skirts sentimentality. His leads certainly help, especially Flores, a nonprofessional actor who shows depth as our protagonist. Casper and Sayra make brave but dangerous choices, knowing that the right thing is at odds with self-preservation. In the end, Sin Nombre is about the struggle to hang on to one’s humanity when the world is doing its best to snuff it out.
Cutting to the Chase with Phil Bacharach 