We Are What We Are (2011)

If you think your family is dysfunctional, then you clearly haven’t seen We Are What We Are (Somos Lo Que Hay). This satirical horror movie from newbie Mexican writer-director Jorge Michel Grau takes messed-up families to a grotesque new level.

The film starts off with a shot of a shabby, sickly middle-aged man on the clean-scrubbed streets of a Mexico City shopping plaza. He is gazing longingly at the bikini-clad mannequins in a shop window, while clutching his aching belly. After he vomits up bile and blood and drops dead on the street, he is stepped over by a few passersby before a street cleaning crew quickly mops up and disposes of his remains.

An autopsy reveals the man’s last supper included a partially digested, fully manicured finger. And we learn that his surviving family–a wife, two teen sons, and a teen daughter–have been left without their sole breadwinner. Except papa didn’t so much bring home the bacon as he did the long pig. The remaining clan, who lives in a dark hovel on the outskirts of the city, survives on a ritual cannibalistic diet.

Surprisingly, a fairly typical family drama ensues. The shy, sensitive (read: latently homosexual) eldest son, Alfredo (Francisco Barreiro) struggles with his unwanted, newly inherited role as head of household. He must prove his mettle to both his mother (Carmen Beato), who is angry and resentful that her late husband’s penchant for prostitute meat has left them in dire straits, and his hotheaded younger brother, Julian (Alan Chavez) whose bubbling jealousy and rage is like something out of a Shakespearean history. Meanwhile, their seemingly marginalized sister, Sabina (Paulina Gaitan), shrewdly manipulates every member of the family, playing on each of their obvious strengths and weaknesses.

Throw in some intimations of incest–Julian has the Flowers in the Attic-level hots for his sister–and Grau’s first film is one disturbing human stew. Shot in pond-scummy greens and greys by cinematographer Santiago Sanchez, We Are What We Are juxtaposes the gritty realism of an unspoken caste-bound society with gruesome cannibalism. The social message is clear: human society has its own food chain, wherein the rich eat the poor and the poor eat the poorer. The metaphor is made literal when Alfredo and Julian “go hunting” for the only members of society more invisible than they are: homeless children, street prostitutes, and gay teens. But their simultaneous sexual longing and moral disgust for the latter two seem to plague them more than the act of devouring raw human flesh. Because what? They’re too good for that?

Even the sound design in Grau’s film has something to say about this equation. As alluded to by the house full of hundreds of ticking clocks (daddy’s day job was as a watchmaker and repairman), it’s only a matter of time before the family and the whole messed up society, falls to pieces.

As if satire and horror weren’t enough, the film also includes a certain element of parlor play. Large swaths of the action take place in the cramped, dingy apartment and revolve around the family’s uncomfortable dynamics, including a supremely weird coming-out scene. (Hi mom, I’m gay. And I brought dinner.) These are ultimately among the most successful scenes of We Are What We Are, and the ones in which actors Barreiro, Chaves, Gaitan and Beato shine. The women are especially intriguing to watch.

The film’s execution is powerful and gripping in those ways but is problematic in others. The screenplay, for example, never explains why there’s such a rush to kill so soon after the father’s demise. Is it simply because they’re hungry and don’t know from peanut butter and jelly? Is it solely due to the power play for the new head of household? Or does it have something to do with the timing of the ritual the family performs before chowing down? Moreover, is this some tribal, ancient rite or a newfangled sacrament designed by the family’s patriarch to explain away his murderous desire for whores and ameliorate his feeling of disenfranchisement? I’m inclined to believe the latter but Grau’s script deals so much in metaphor that it forgets to provide answers to the literal.

It’s a shame because We Are What We Arehas long, dull stretches in its second act that could have used a little more flesh on the bone. Instead, we get to see some corrupt Keystone Kops try to solve the mystery of the cannibals in hopes of a cash reward and fame. These characters add little in the way of mystery, horror or humor to the story, which would have benefited more from all three. Ultimately, this film falls just short of living up to its enormous hybrid potential.

We Are What We Are’s potential is so great, in fact, that I can almost taste the Hollywood remake in the offing. And it tastes like chicken.