Wednesday, 15 November 2017

We Are The End by Gonzalo C. Garcia


Review by JJ Marsh

What we thought: This would make a perfect art house film. It has all the right elements: rain, ennui, obsession, motifs and a tragic (in)sensibility.

Chilean games designer Tomás is trying to start again. New life, new game. His girlfriend left him with the crushing line, “I never knew I could do better”. She’s taken everything they had – except an album by Serge Gainsbourg and some unreliable memories.

Self-absorbed beyond millennial navel-gazing, Tomás is not a good neighbour, friend, son, brother or casual lover. He made all the wrong choices. Now his best mate is a successful rock star (with the band Tomás left), his ex-girlfriend is in Antarctica and he cannot up his narrative game. His university teaching gig depends on him being a games designer, but ever since Bimbo – the elephant that can jump but doesn’t come down again – his IDEAS book is full of non-starters.

Adventures with Tomás are just around the corner. He has big plans but planning is as far as he gets. His imaginary world and reality overlap as he floats into one situation after another until he finds himself onstage at a Satanists’ meeting, talking about the end of the world.

This is a darkly comic insight into a barely functioning adult who can shave, make coffee and single-mindedly try to rewind his world. Symbols of home and escape abound: mountains encircling Santiago, the hole in the ceiling, the plastic windmills, chewing-gum constellations and our not-quite-hero’s decision to camp in a tent in his own living-room.

A book to make you sigh, smile and acknowledge the internal loop of self-deception, all the while hoping Tomas might still bring his elephant back down.

You’ll enjoy this if you liked:
Model Behaviour by Jay McInerey, L’Etranger by Albert Camus or The Ten O’Clock Horses by Laurie Graham

Avoid if you don’t like: Languor, introspection, fractured storytelling

Ideal accompaniments: Piscola, sopaipillas and Ana Tijoux’s 1977.



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