The Box (La Caja)

The scope of the camerawork here is so enormous it makes Power of the Dog look like it was shot in an alley behind an auto parts store. I have never seen just a good visual argument over the importance of theatrical screenings on the biggest screens possible. I envy everyone out there with TV screens the size of kiddie pools because the views are going to be magnificent. The visual artwork here is so strong you can feel the wind on your face.

I appreciate how gritty and realistic the subject matter is, especially considering it’s semi-autobiographical. However, I also feel this is more than just a modern western. While not erupting with action sequences, few movies are more neo-western than this. The lawless networks running the factories still carry the chaos and cruelty of the wild wild west. The themes seem very western in flavor, especially the study of the bad men can do underneath the good they show. The metal coffin carried under the arm screams the original Django.

“Navarrete has some of the best stoic stares against the wilds since Clint Eastwood…”

The machinations in the further acts are worthy of A Fistful of Dollars. Navarrete has some of the best stoic stares against the wilds since Clint Eastwood squinted at Italians. Much of the film is carried on, his silent features staring harder and harder into your center.

There is this marvelous hard-boiled narrative style Vigas employs, with long periods without dialogue and little exposition. The way the intrigue is built as the picture progresses almost takes us into thriller territory. This is the cinematic storm the filmmaker creates here when a child’s yearning meets the brutality of an outlaw land. All of this is happening among Armstrong’s wonderland of eye-slapping sights. The Box is a powerful picture that has to be seen and seen as there is a lot to see.