Bodyguard + Waiting for Godot = El Custodio

I hope you forgot the existence of that awful romantic thriller called Bodyguard. It's for sure one of the crappiest movies I've watched. The protagonist of El Custodio is a bodyguard and as I began watching it, I thought I was up for a boring political thriller. One reason for my suspicions can be derived from the bleak, grey-ish cinematography; images well fitting for German krimis situated in Bonn or Dresden. If there's something I can't digest in this world, it's German Krimis where nothing happens. Well, what can I say? Nothing much happens here, either. But to quote Simone Weil: everything good and beautiful is a mix of variation and monotony. There's a lot of the latter, because this is primarily a film about waiting. Most thrillers & crime movies include at least one scene in which two guys sit in a car waiting for something. Perhaps they are munching on donuts, who knows. In El custodio, this scene is stretched out to encompass almost the entire movie.

Rubén is a bodyguard. He works for a minister, an annoying, self-absorbed chatterbox. Rubén follows the minister wherever he goes. Most of his days are spent in drab, clinical corridors, waiting for the meetings to end, or in his car, accomapanied by a similarly stone-faced chauffeur. Rubén reminds me of Mr. Stevens in The Remains of the day, the perfect professional, for whom invisibility and discretion are virtues par excellence. It is Rubén's job to do nothing, to stay alert in case something happens (ironically, when something does happen, he is smoking a cigarette). His job is not appreciated by anybody; to many, his just ridiculous. In one scene, the minister is engrossed in an important meeting somewhere by the sea. In an adjacent room, Rubén stands quietly, staring out at the enchanting sea. He tells another man that he has never swam in the sea. Why doesn't he take the opportunity and jump in? He must wait for the minister. In another scene, Rubén waits in yet another anonymous corridor. "The minister will be occupied for a few more hours" he is told by an assistant. He sips on a mug of water from a water cistern. For a few minutes, the only thing we see is the water cistern against the background of the naked corridor. There's bubbles within the cistern, and there's a sound - burp, burp, burp. That scene is, to me, strangely Lynchian. You might remember the scene from the Twin peaks hospital in season one (after the fire at the mill)? There's a close-up of a bizarre-looking food tray, and that's it, it's just a god damn food tray and some odd-looking food, but the effect is still tremenduous.

El Custodio is a film with a grand ending, it's very cinematic, but it's great nonetheless. All in all, the film is a hard-boiled, cynical affair in a way that makes me think of Ellroy. Ellroy on tranquilizers. Ellroy with a minimalist credo. This is a good film even though it will, in several ways, test your nerves. There's no dramatic suspense - there's an awful lot of no-action, but when something suddenly happens, the result is all the more forceful.