By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic
Published August 24, 2006
Quinceanera (R) (90 min.) - The Mexican tradition of quinceanera is a version of the bat mitzvah, a rite of passage for Latinas at age 15 marked by spirituality, celebration and peer envy. Magdalena (Emily Rios) is only a few weeks away from hers when she gets startling news: She is pregnant but has never had intercourse with her boyfriend Herman (J.R. Cruz), or anyone else, for that matter.
The angry reaction of her father (Jesus Castanos-Chima), a storefront preacher, sends Magdalena to live with her elderly granduncle Don Tomas (Chalo Gonzalez), the patriarch of Echo Park, a Los Angeles neighborhood rapidly becoming gentrified by affluent white newcomers. Tomas already houses his grandnephew Carlos (Jesse Garcia), banished by his parents for visiting gay porn Web sites. In a clunky coincidence, the new owners of their rented apartment are white homosexuals lusting for threesomes with Latin boys.
That exposition suggests the key problem with Quinceanera: Filmmaking teammates Wash Westmoreland and Richard Glatzer - outsiders from New York and England, respectively - discovered a vibrant culture in transition and couldn't decide which of the innumerable stories to focus upon.
Magdalena's and Carlos' separate family conflicts are two sides of the same undeveloped theme. The theological possibility of a virgin birth is almost entirely overlooked; it never occurs to Magdalena's Bible-thumping father. Planning her quinceanera could be a cultural comedy along the lines of Keeping Up with the Steins. The Latin stratification preventing Herman's loyalty to Magdalena - his parents prefer him in medical school - is of only passing interest. Carlos' crush on his landlord Gary (David R. Ross) despite their age, cultural differences and a love triangle could fill an entire film.
Each idea is solid but not sturdy in such condensed, crowded circumstances. However, Quinceanera makes filling in the blanks of these incomplete character studies somewhat fulfilling. Seldom does a film with such authentic locales and personalities reach audiences beyond the place where it originates. Practically each scene has something that makes it seem foreign, yet accessible, to mainstream viewers.
Mostly that satisfaction is derived from the performances. The camera loves Rios' average looks, making them fairly radiant at times. Garcia is a true find in an occasionally tricky role, exhibiting a tough exterior with a surprisingly soft center. The soul of the movie - and another role deserving more screen time - is Gonzalez's portrayal of Don Tomas.
Every fading neighborhood needs someone like Tomas as a link to the past, an idea Glatzer and Westmoreland should have embellished. Gonzalez, who debuted in 1969's The Wild Bunch, never strains for his character's sainthood, but quietly earns that respect. His reverie about a lost sweetheart is reminiscent of Ben Johnson's similar soliloquy in The Last Picture Show, coincidentally set in another dying community. Contrasting his past with Magdalena's and Carlos' present brings out the best of Quinceanera, just enough to recommend the film. B
