DIRECTOR NOTES

From westerns like Hell or High Water to noir classics like Three Days of the Condor and Chinatown, I’ve always been drawn to crime thrillers where morally conflicted characters wade through ethically nebulous worlds as they struggle against injustice. Like these westerns, Blood Avocados and Butterflies explores the need for violence when fighting injustice in a world struggling to be civilized.

LOCATIONS

In westerns, the arid desert landscapes sprinkled with the beginnings of a new civilization underline the loneliness of the hero as he faces off against injustice. While in noir cinema, skyscrapers tower over squalor-ridden neighbourhoods as monuments of the moral decay of a cutthroat society. These settings offer the perfect backdrops as heroes endure the devastating realization that power too often favours the unscrupulous and violent.

But urban or desert landscapes alone aren’t the only important backdrops to Nacho’s ordeal. The country of Mexico itself becomes a main character in the story of a humble everyman desperately seeking justice. Given Mexico’s ongoing battle with violence and corruption, it’s impossible not to draw parallels with Nacho’s story and Mexico’s socio-political reality. Allegorically speaking, Nacho represents a population victimized by callous corporations and corrupt governments on the one side, and violent gangsters and crooked law enforcement on the other, and powerless to do anything about any of them.

In addition to classic western and noir cinema, Blood Avocados and Butterflies will also be taking many of its stylistic cues from the seventies: a decade rich with politically charged thrillers in which unlikely heroes fought against unjust systems; where the decay of inner cities clashed with the lavish excesses of the privileged. From Norma Rae and Five Easy Pieces, to Brubaker or The China Syndrome, the seventies seemed to trade the tough men of the fifties and sixties, defending society, for the unlikely hero fighting society itself.

The first act of Blood Avocados and Butterflies unfolds mainly in a cabin in the middle of the desert. The desolation and unsettling quiet provide the perfect place where hidden agendas are revealed and tenuous allegiances are forged. Stark shadows around fire-lit scenes and wide vistas over breathtaking scenery will recall classic scenes of western cinema. 

Similarly, as the film builds towards its denouement, the scenery shifts from the arid mountaintops and cactus-sprinkled hills to the urban jungle of Mexico City as its skyline rises menacingly on the horizon. The city is where the cold impersonal boardroom of the Torre Sevilla becomes the stage for a gladiatorial cage-match between Nacho and a team of powerhouse lawyers. Finally, at the climax, the scenery will morph again as the impersonal steeliness of the Torre Sevilla is replaced by the earth, stone, and the crushing darkness of an ore mine as Nacho, Mark and Paco descend into the dark tunnels of an underground mine for a final showdown.

WARDROBE

The seventies was also an era of ill-fitting suits, brown leather jackets and big hair and wardrobe plays a bog role in Blood Avocados and Butterflies. As the film opens, Nacho’s humble attire is in stark contrast to Mark’s sullied but expensive suit. Their clothing stresses the class difference between them and leads the audience into believing Mark is the victim while Nacho is the perpetrator. Additionally, the rest of Nacho’s cohorts are draped in leather jackets and slick tracksuits while Nacho is the only one wearing economy slacks and a hand-me down shirt. Nacho wears the clothes of a self-effacing man, in contrast to Mark’s tailored suit and the signatory gangster gear of Paco and his men. His low-key approach to dressing makes Nacho stand out like a fish stranded hopelessly far from his body of water.  

In the lead-up to the “bank job”, wardrobe again takes centre stage as Nacho dawns an expensive suit as camouflage in the world of high-finance. Add to the suit a gun, and Nacho begins to morph into a hybrid of Mark and Paco. Finally, Nacho’s torn and bloodied suit becomes the perfect wardrobe for the “hero/Christ” figure he becomes as carried away over a sea of miners in their hard-hats and working-class overalls.

CAMERA AND LIGHTING

As we introduce and spend time with Nacho, long focal lenses will isolate him from the background stressing his otherness and his fish-out-water predicament. When Nacho is with Mark or Paco, wide lingering masters will exploit the space between him and his two dubious nemeses. As the plot thickens and tenuous trust builds, Nacho, Mark and Paco will gradually move closer to each other, with each character gradually occupying more space in each other’s frames.

As Nacho emerges triumphant from the Torre Sevilla boardroom meeting, the camera will become more vibrant and dynamic to capture the increasing action. Everything from swish-pans and steady-cam shots to hand-held running shots will heighten the rising tension as Nacho flees for his life. Swinging bare bulbs and flickering neons will underline the gut-wrenching drama of those final moments as Nacho makes his last stand. 

In the same way that the arid landscapes of northern Mexico and the corporate jungle of Mexico City become central characters in Blood Avocados and Butterflies so too does the sunlight. The vast expanses of land in Mexico’s north allow for great sunsets and sunrises that will cast Nacho, Mark and Paco in either the fiery glow of a sunset or in a cold pre-dawn blue. Filming specific scenes during sunsets or sunrises will create a kind of timelessness, adding to Nacho’s alienation and loneliness. And as the film reaches its emotional denouement, Nacho will face the first faint light of a new day that he’ll never be a part of.