I only heard of the original Mexican film Miss Bala because I heard of the reboot starring Gina Rodriguez, and since original foreign films are usually better than American remakes, I decided to have a Miss Bala marathon at home instead of going to the theater and paying to see one that was probably a pale imitation. This review is about the original Mexican version which was in theaters in 2011.
Miss Bala, which means Miss Bullet, is as if Sid Davis decided to make educational cautionary films worthy to be shown in the theaters. If Thomas Hardy made films and really enjoyed Denis Villeneuve, but did not share his sense of optimism, he would make this film. It is about Laura, a young woman who leaves home to try out for a pageant and go to a club with her friend, but they get separated when the club is attacked, and suddenly she becomes an unwilling puppet caught in between two forces that she does not understand. It takes place over the course of five days.
It would feel weird to say that you love a film like Miss Bala because it so empathizes with a woman in danger that the viewer cannot help but feel claustrophobic and trapped as well, and who loves to feel like that? It is an effective movie that uses all the necessary filmmaking elements in a superb and cohesive manner that resonates with viewers albeit some of Laura’s early reactions strain credibility, but are necessary for the story to keep going forward.
When I watch a film, I like to think about when the movie would have ended because I would not have acted similarly to the protagonist. In Miss Bala, there were two early moments. The first time that she lost her friend then the minute that I left the club, I would have gone home then tried to contact my friend. I live in a major metropolitan city that absurdly has few stores open all night. I am not hanging around. I know that the director was committed to telling the story of a crime drama from the perspective of an innocent person swept away by events, but the story did not always add up in terms of plausibility.
Miss Bala is shot very well. In the first third, we get more long shots that reveal her relationship to her surroundings, which later adds to the suspense of the movie because like Laura, we have no idea what she is a part of, but unlike her, we can gradually realize the context of what is unfolding and what she is doing. Then as she becomes trapped by her circumstances, the camera work becomes tighter and claustrophobic so that you can feel as trapped and threatened as she is. When the camera finally pulls back and one of the worst things finally happens to her, we return to the long shots, searching for Laura, but we don’t find her. In many ways, she is completely lost at that moment. The final act is the most chaotic as it toggles between the similarity of being manhandled by the criminals and the pageant. Again we find ourselves in tighter spots with Laura.
While the pageant seems just as much a victim of circumstance as Laura, Miss Bala also seems to equate and equally condemn Laura being robbed of her agency by the pageant as the criminals. There is little difference between underwear and swimsuits. Both organizations are dehumanizing and uses people like chess pieces. Laura is reduced to her body, not her relationships or her identity. She may be dressed like a queen, but she really is a pawn, and the television is the chessboard. We gradually realize who the players are.
Miss Bala also feels like a sardonic retelling of a fairy tale—be careful what you wish for because getting singled out as the fairest of them all comes at a serious cost to your reputation, dignity, autonomy and safety. Better to stay at home and take care of your family. There is a bit of country versus city mouse in this story. While I thought that film was always sympathetic to Laura’s plight, I did begin to check out because there is only so long that you can watch someone be jerked around like a living, breathing doll and worrying about them before you just have to let it go. The only problem that I have with this choice is that safety requires isolation and service with nothing in return. Her family certainly sees her as a human being and offers respect as a person, but the head of the family should be in service of the family, not the only woman in the family.
When Miss Bala finally does reach the end, instead of relief, there is a vague feeling as if even though Laura’s part in the story is over, it could easily happen all over again with a different country mouse who wanders into the city. In many ways, this film feels like meta commentary, not only about Mexico and its relationship to women, media and the illusion of law enforcement, but provides commentary about callousness of filmmaking. The criminals behave similarly to filmmakers. They create a story, cast it then orchestrate without any concern for their characters. Either way, we will watch it-in the theater or on television. There is a trenchant cynicism about the faith that we have in our institutions and reality. We don’t question the narrative provided to consumers.
A lot gets lost in translation in Miss Bala for American viewers unfamiliar with Mexico. Because I am not familiar with the specific region that Laura is from, Baja, I have no idea if her little speech about her district is ironic or sincere, and how the filmmaker wants us to think about it in the broader context of the film’s message. Also initially she gets disqualified from the pageant, but it is unclear why—do you need a partner to enter, was she late?
Miss Bala is a solid example of chaos cinema. Instead of fully and elegantly displaying the action so the viewer can enjoy it, chaos cinema’s point is to psychologically make the viewers empathize with the characters on screen. I normally despise chaos cinema, but in this context, I thought that it was appropriate because the action and violence should not be glorified, and we should feel as shocked by it as Laura. Even though our sympathies are rigidly with Laura, I did begin to grow weary seeing her repeatedly huddling half naked from danger. Yes, the film critiques objectification and her initial enthusiastic participation in her objectification, but it also benefits from it. The movie could have literally been shot from Laura’s point of view, but it isn’t, and that is a deliberate choice. The director deliberately wanted to evoke Janet Jackson’s If cover in his promotion, and it is curious imagery to use for a woman held hostage. To truly relate to Laura, we should understand that others see her sexually, but we should not feel similar to the criminals.
I enjoy a bleak movie, and Miss Bala succeeds at avoiding any tidy, uplifting takeaways to console you as you finish the movie. You will be haunted by the opening dialogue between the father and daughter, “I just don’t like this environment for you.” “Have some faith in me dad.” Father knows best, but cannot offer protection. The state and all patriarchal institutions ultimately fail the good girl.