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“Sin Nombre” is a amazing debut for Cary Joji Fukunaga – an tale about all the harrowing obstacles that illegal immigrants from Central America face before they ever even approach the U.S. border, if they even fabricate it that far. You can indulge in this movie whatever your politics because it’s refreshingly free of preaching and lectures and messages. I’m against illegal immigration but I serene got caught up in it on an emotional level. Fukunaga simply presents a straightforward sage concerning Sayra, a Honduran girl about 15 y/o and Willy, a Mexican boy a microscopic older, maybe 17 y/o. The viewer is left to arrangement his or her enjoy personal conclusions regarding the Enormous Report of illegal immigration and Third World poverty and colonialism and imperialism and exploitation and economics and gangs and so on. I can remember seeing a TV newsmagazine segment a few years ago on how these migrants ghastly Mexico on the tops of cargo trains. Not inside the boxcars, but clinging to the tops of the cars. Apparently, the interiors of the cars are too uncertain because of bandits and/or rapists and murderers – both free-lance thugs and organized gangsters. At any rate, the whole scene is totally lawless. Anybody who attempts this stir is taking their life into their maintain hands. They’re beset upon by not only the aforementioned bandits, but also the Mexican authorities, who seem entirely unsympathetic, to set aside it mildly. At the time I thought: “What a ample premise for a movie!” Seems like Mr. Fukunaga agreed.

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I believe the trailer gives away too considerable already, so I’ll try to be careful what I say here. Willy is a member of Mara Salvatrucha and Sayra is making her design North when their paths intersect atop a direct. Willy makes a moment-of-truth decision that permanently and irrevocably disrupts his life and suddenly binds the wide-eyed Sayra to his side from that instant on. Then the inch is on and it’s a gargantuan one.

This movie is not only extremely graphic, but also very true-to-life and thoroughly realistic. For example, there’s a scene where an unarmed Willy is being hunted by two gunmen and I figured he would simply turn the tables on them and find their guns. After all, Sylvester Stallone would unbiased laugh if it was a mere two killers after him, proper? Sylvester would then easily slay them both bare-handed in a few seconds, suitable? Even with his eyes closed if he wanted to. But then I realized that Willy without his bear gun and without his gang was impartial a paralyzed boy running for his life like a rabbit. At that point, I realized unbiased how superb this movie was and I really got into it.

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Fukunaga gets uniformly heavenly low-key and histrionics-free performances out of his entire cast. Not a single worn link among all of them. The two leads are sure standouts but there’s a lot of sterling work by the other actors. Lil’ Mago is absolutely terrifying; a figure straight out of a nightmare but smooth seeming human. Martha Marlene is amusing and very touching when we realize what her fate is going to be. Smiley is good on the money – a titanic peformance by a child actor. Scarface reminds us that not all of the Mara Salvatrucha are kids; some of them actually survive into their 30’s and 40’s and so on. I assume the guy playing El Sol gets somewhat overlooked. His character doesn’t have Lil’ Mago’s eerie appearance but he manages to be every bit as scary honest the same.

Also, Mr. Fukunaga clearly knows his Shakespeare. Willy has two different relationships that both echo “Romeo and Juliet” and there’s a scene at the ruin that’s a fresh version of “Et tu, Brute? ” from “Julius Caesar”. But what I like most about him is his obstinacy. He was given a Sundance Studios green light to build a film and he came up with a Spanish language anecdote made in Mexico with an all-Hispanic cast. Not a single gringo in look, but don’t let the sub-titles discourage you from experiencing a first-rate, extremely well-made, deeply intriguing film. Go view it and remove the DVD when it comes out – it’s that suitable.

Sin Nombre has it all – titanic acting, stunning cinematography, much themes, and astounding realism. The realism is no accident. Young filmmaker Cary Fukunaga spent months in Mexico, interviewing both immigrants and gang members about their experiences. He shot on residence, and many cast members are nonprofessionals. For example, Edgar Flores, in the lead role as a member of the Chiapas chapter of the brutal Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13) gang, is straight off the streets of Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

Despite the specific setting of the tumultuous U.S.-Mexico border, Sin Nombre addresses remarkable and universal themes of damnation and redemption. At least, that’s how I saw it. In an interview, Fukunaga himself said he sees it as being about family – “the disintegration and recreation of the family unit in its modern and varying forms.”

The situation centers around a chance and fateful encounter between gang member Willy and a 15-year-old Honduran girl, Sayra (Paulina Gaitan), who is riding north through Mexico atop a scream. Though Sayra’s trail, viewers find an appreciation for the intense dangers faced by Central Americans trekking toward the promised land.

Without giving away anything, I can direct you a bit of background on how the film came about. Fukunaga, a native of the San Francisco Bay Space, was in film school in Recent York when he read a Modern York Times memoir on a group of Mexican and Central American immigrants who died of asphyxiation and heat exhaustion while trapped and abandoned inside a refrigerated trailer. His short 2004 documentary about that case, “Victoria Para Chino,” won multiple film awards.

That project evolved into Sin Nombre, as Fukunaga explained in an IndieWire interview. Doing the research, he said, “I learned about the terrible budge Central American immigrants went through in order to secure to the United States – crossing the infinitely more hazardous badlands of Mexico on top of (not in) freight trains accelerate for the US Border. It was like a world that belonged to the broken-down wild west.”

Against the advice of friends, Fukunaga gained intimacy with his topic by taking the same harrowing train-top wander that he would film. On his first crawl, with 700 Central American immigrants, the jabber was attacked within three hours:

“We were somewhere in the pitch gloomy regions of the Chiapan country side. In the alcove of the next explain car I heard the positive pops of gunshots, always louder than they seem in the movies, then the screams of immigrants passing the word: ‘Pandillas! Pandillas!’ (gangsters) . Everyone scattered, I could hear them running in past our tanker car. Not having any where to hasten to, I stayed on…. The next day I talked to two Hondurans who were next to the attack. They told me a Guatemalan immigrant didn’t want to give two bandits his money so they shot him and throw him under the explain. [Later] I learned the police had found the body of a Guatemalan immigrant, shot and abandoned…. Nothing could have driven home the sensation of terror and impotence than what I had felt first hand with those immigrants.”

Fukunaga’s willingness and ability to look through the eyes of others probably owes remarkable to his upbringing. Fukunaga is described in an L.A. Times article as “a wandering spirit with a Japanese father, a Swedish mother, a Chicano stepdad and an Argentine stepmom [who] can’t be reduced to the sum of his parts, ethnic or otherwise. Growing up, he shuffled from the suburbs to the country to the barrio (’Crips and Bloods, people getting shot’) to the East Bay’s hillside bourgeois enclaves. His family, he says, always has been a ‘conglomeration of individual, sort of displaced people,’ recombinations of relatives and step-relatives, blood kin and surrogate kin, parents and what he calls “pseudo-parents” who treated him like a son.”

With this background, Fukunaga was able to consume not only the immigrant experience, but the pathos of gang life in Central America and Mexico, with brutality and hopelessness transmitted from generation to generation. Sin Nombre doesn’t give the history or context for the Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13), which at 100,000-strong is widely considered one of the most fastest-growing and perilous gangs in the world. But you can secure that elsewhere on the Web.

In brief, the MS-13 is an outgrowth of the 1980s war in El Salvador, which led to a massive migration of up to two million refugees into the United States. Many settled in the Ramparts spot of Los Angeles, where the gang was founded. Strict U.S. immigration policies in more fresh years have paradoxically worsened the gang jam, allowing the MS-13 to win footholds in Central America and Mexico. The MS-13 is known for its quick-witted tattoos, but some say members are tantalizing away from tattoos because they so brilliantly illuminate gang membership for authorities. A documentary on the MS-13, Hijos de la Guerra (Children of the War), can be previewed at hijosdelaguerra dot com.

Sin Nombre is getting universal acclaim, and richly deserves the directing and cinematography awards it garnered at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival.

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