“A comedy of manners that attempts to criticize the wealthy, social class structures, and the desire to climb the social ladder.”

Playing at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival in the Special Presentations section is the latest film from Mexican actor-director Gael García Bernal, Hombre al agua. This is his third full-length directorial work, following Déficit in 2007 and Chicuarotes in 2019. The film is a comedy of manners that attempts to criticize the wealthy, social class structures, and the desire to climb the social ladder. At its best, García Bernal finds a sharpness and absurdity in his characters even though Hombre al agua eventually becomes weighed down by how much it tries to do.

The film stars García Bernal as Camilo, who has returned to Cuba to spend time with his dying mother and has taken a job as a lifeguard. During one of his days at the beach, he saves a man named Abel from drowning. Abel, played by Jorge Salinas, is a very wealthy Mexican businessman who decides to befriend the lifeguard. Camilo eventually marries Abel’s daughter Juana (Esmeralda Pimentel), and Abel offers him a job as the manager of his seal factory in Yucatán (seals in this instance referring to items such as wax seals, closures, adhesive ties, and the like).  

This part of the story is told in flashback, with the main portion of the film taking place after Camilo has already become the factory manager and is living in Yucatán. He and Juana now have a baby and live together on a large estate. Their relationship, however, is no longer as romantic or passionate as it once was. Juana is constantly talking about being an heiress and has begun entertaining the idea of having a movie made about herself. A Brazilian actress, played by Débora Nascimento, is brought in to portray Juana, and the film frequently uses scenes of Camilo watching footage of the actress from different films she has starred in. These choices add more absurdity to an already strange dynamic, while also making it increasingly difficult to separate the different versions of the plot that exist within the film.

Meanwhile, Abel has an accident and decides to become an environmental politician, asking Camilo to work on his campaign as his chief of staff. At the same time, Abel pressures Camilo to cut staff at the seal factory in order to impress Dutch investors. The laborers are also being followed by a documentary crew, who are filming their lives as factory workers. The foreman tells Camilo that he believes the documentary will help the workers move on before they are fired. This shows the irony of Abel wanting to present himself as a progressive environmentalist while simultaneously making decisions that will hurt the people who work for him. The contradiction is obvious, and García Bernal seems to enjoy exposing it.

And there is still another plot involving Abel’s Argentine girlfriend, or mistress, or whatever she is, Silvina (Natalia Oreiro). Abel has her live at Camilo and Juana’s estate while he is recovering from his accident. Even once Abel is no longer confined to the hospital, Silvina seems to remain trapped on the grounds of the estate. By this point, the film has introduced so many characters and storylines that it begins to feel less like a cohesive narrative and more like a hodgepodge of different ideas.

This makes the film messy. Structurally, it is handling way too much. There are a slew of supporting actors, outside of those already mentioned, who all have roles to play. Even Ricky Martin makes an appearance as the actor playing Camilo in Juana’s biopic. None of these individual choices are bad per se, but together they become overbearing. There are too many structural and narrative devices being used, and the story eventually loses its momentum. The narratives become scattered and boring which in turn causes the themes to seem less powerful and start to blur. 

Thematically, though, there are still major points to be made. Camilo is clearly a social climber, yet he never seems able to completely succeed in entering the world of Abel and Juana. His past as a Cuban is constantly brought up, with others comparing him to a communist and often using it to get what they need from him. There is even a suggestion that Abel hired Camilo partly because having a communist running his capitalist factory would make his treatment of workers seem less harsh. It is a ridiculous idea, but it also gets to the heart of what García Bernal is criticizing. Abel wants to appear progressive and sympathetic while continuing to benefit from the same system that gives him his wealth.

Abel is a factory owner who lives a luxurious life, yet he wants to fire employees who have worked for him for years. There are no pay cuts for Abel, but there are cuts to the livelihood of people who have far less than he does. Somehow he is also campaigning on environmental issues and presenting himself as someone who cares about the future. The film makes a point of placing all of this in Yucatán, which García Bernal establishes as a place with a deep indigenous history and culture. There is a clear disconnect between the image Abel wants to project and the reality of the life he actually lives.

Juana is an even more obvious example of this privilege. She is an heiress who has done little to earn her luxury or wealth, and she acts like it. She bosses people around and often treats others as lesser. She even wants a movie made about herself so she can tell the world how difficult it is to be an heiress and how hard it is to deal with constant criticism. It is absurd, especially when she constantly says she needs good sleep so she can work and take care of her family, despite having no actual job. García Bernal gets a lot of subtle comedy out of the complete disconnect between what Juana thinks her life is and what everyone else can clearly see.

This becomes part of Camilo’s ceaseless struggle throughout the film. He has managed to move into a world of wealth and privilege, but he never truly becomes one of them. Abel and Juana constantly take advantage of him, using him when it is convenient and expecting him to solve problems that they have created. Even the maid tells Camilo that he is being used and will be used more. He has climbed the social ladder, but the higher he gets, the more obvious it becomes that he is still looking up at the people above him.

At the end of the film, the poor and immoral decisions made by Abel and Juana tend not to affect them at all. This appears to be the larger criticism García Bernal is making. The wealthy can make bad decisions, treat other people poorly, and remain largely insulated from the consequences, while those with less power are left to deal with the fallout. There also seems to be a criticism of wealthy liberals who attempt to sympathize with the poor while continuing to live lives of privilege that directly benefit from their status and position. 

There is a comedic and sharp film somewhere inside Hombre al agua. García Bernal has plenty of ideas about wealth, class, and privilege. Unfortunately, the film tries to explore too many of these ideas at once, and its increasingly complicated structure often gets in the way. Still, García Bernal shows a formidable talent to develop his characters and an ability to find humor in their contradictions. While it is an intriguing film that doesn’t always come together, García Bernal’s ambition and sense of humor make Hombre al agua an engaging watch with plenty to appreciate.