El 5 de Talleres

Crítica de Pablo Suárez - Buenos Aires Herald

Patón Bonassiole (Esteban Lamothe, from El estudiante) is a 35-year-old soccer player for Talleres of Remedios de Escalada, and he’s not precisely going through a stroke of luck: he committed a foul and so he’s been banned from playing for eight matches. Not only that, considering his age, he has to face it will soon be time to retire.

Something which his wife Alejandra (Julieta Zylberberg) agrees to — plus, rather than considering it any kind of misfortune, she sees it as the chance for a fresh new start. By the way, Patón and Alejandra get along quite well and haven’t lost an inch of passion, so their new future can only be encouraging. It’s up to Patón to make up his mind and say goodbye to the only life he’s known for so long.

El 5 de Talleres, written and directed by Adrián Biniez (Gigante) is, on the surface, an examination of the everyday life of a soccer player at the end of the line. How is he supposed to let go of a profession that gave him his very identity? What is he to do in order to become somebody else, and yet keep being himself? What are, in fact, his choices? None of these questions are addressed in an existential manner, which is not to say they are tackled superficially either.

Adrián Biniez trusts viewers to understand the process by exposing bits and pieces of run-of-the-mill activities now seen under a different light. It’s about observing in a very well detailed fashion, nonchalantly and with a contagious sense of humour. Often a low key comedy, El 5 de Talleres is also a gentle study of a loving couple, their quirks, codes and understandings. The fact that Esteban Lamothe and Julieta Zylberberg are real-life partners adds to the chemistry provided by the smart screenplay and precise direction. Their gripping performances, together with those of the rest of the cast, add verisimilitude to a scenario that becomes more and more familiar as new decisions are made.

With a downplayed tone and a smooth rhythm, Biniez’s second opus eschews big meanings and big gestures, but it’s not about dry minimalism either. It’s actually kind of hard to say where it exactly lies, and that’s likely to be an asset for a seemingly small film that says more than what it seems.