La Virgen de los Sicarios
"The messages from the images come as no surprise to modern-day Colombian society: human life is worth nothing in this 'twilight zone' of the world."
Fernando is a very sick man who confessed having gone to bed with over 500 male children. He has come back to Medellín, Colombia, after a 30-year absence, to pick up millions of US dollars left to him by a sister who in turn got rich when her mafia husband turned up killed by some of his associates.
With his drug money he manages to buy the sex services (and friendship) of his first adolescent male lover, a sicario boy named Alexis, whom he is able to entertain with noisy toys and gadgets. He himself is totally miserable, though, feeling at all times that he has reached the end of his existence.
"Colombians have hunger for breakfast, unemployment for lunch and violence for dinner."
For Fernando life makes no sense and serves no purpose. History is an illusion. Nothing is real. God got lost somewhere in the Amazon Jungle. Because of his tragic alliance with young "sicarios" (his hitmen lovers), and not being able to see himself as part of the problem (the man is a psychological misfit!) More and more people around him continue to get point-blank killed. Neighbors, taxi drivers, train passengers, people whistling in the street fill the obituary pages.
The criminal mind is grim as it is fascinating. Fernando and Alexis (the sick intellectual mind and the cold-blooded killer in explosive combination), in a sharp ironic twist of the movie, try to help a dog by the sewage that had been badly hurt by a passing vehicle. It was suggested to put the animal out of his misery by a bullet shot to the head. "Not me, not me!," said Alexis, the assassin for whom a human life and feces are one and the same thing. Fernando found the guts and after relieving the animal tried to also kill himself.
"There is, however, a very interesting spiritual symbiosis in Fernando's character. To him God is dead but Satan is alive. He blasphemes against God, calling Him names I would not dare spell out in this critique, and yet churches are his favorite hangouts."
Fernando's cynicism fits well in corrupt and oppressed Colombian society. This is precisely what gives the movie its philosophical justification. He has no faith in any person or system. Everything and everybody around him has failed. Colombians have hunger for breakfast, unemployment for lunch and violence for dinner. This is a society saturated with fifty years of abuse, injustice and powerlessness. But his is an absurd destructive force. An iconoclast, he applauds in celebration when his young lover shoots the TV set as President Samper (accused of drug cartel affiliations) is delivering a political speech. Francisco seems to be saying, "Fine, Colombia is being torn apart from the inside out, so let us rise now and destroy whatever is left of it! Let us rejoice in the blood and destruction!"
A God Is Dead graduate from the Faculty of Niezsche School of Atheism, Fernando seems to have emerged straight from an Albert Camus novel. Amoral, this "Antichrist" figure seems to always rise from the swamp of human suffering and injustice (see Revelations 13). Which is exactly why his visit to Colombia is rational and timely. The marriage is perfect, but Fernando would feel just as captivated in such tragic places as Afganistan, the old Yugoslavia, Camboya, Sudan, Ruanda and Burindi, among other places of our tragic history.
Perhaps the saddest dimension of Fernando's life is his nihilism. The man is an empty vessel. In his tortured consciousness he knows no peace, no love, no hope. His misery is forever. His spiritual death then becomes his inability to live in harmony with himself, his environment, his fellow man and God. His universe is always void, dark and chaotic.
"Quietly, patiently, very much alive, he waits for the next young homosexual lover to knock on his door. Whoever thinks a little will know that the whole absurd and hideous vicious cycle of death and destruction will start all over again."
There is, however, a very interesting spiritual symbiosis in Fernando's character. To him God is dead but Satan is alive. He blasphemes against God, calling Him names I would not dare spell out in this critique, and yet churches are his favorite hangouts. It's as if he would like to start some kind of peace process. He can't wait to sit in the bargaining table and get the conversation going. In fact, he even practices a kind of negative voodooism or black magic before a wooden Christ, "Lord, please help me kill the son of a bitch who killed my lover!"
Informed by low-life killer "La Plaga" that his new lover, Wilmar, had been Alexis' killer, Fernando planned to kill Wilmar in a hotel room. As Wilmar layed in bed Fernando pointed a gun at his head and demanded, "Why did you kill Alexis, you son of a bitch?!"
"I killed him because he killed my brother," was the answer. Fernando lowered his gun, as if obeying some kind of mafia honor code. After that it was business as usual for these two psychos until the day Wilmar too was physically eliminated by other sicarios of the killing game. Is Fernando a pathetic creation, or what? Let the viewer decide.
What is "La Virgen de los Sicarios" all about? This interesting movie, though far from perfect and low-budget, was shot entirely in attractive and industrial Medellín, a city I visited last week (medio asustado!) and notorious for Pablo Escobar and his drug and death culture. It is a sad, bloody and desperate statement about the price of life in Colombia. The messages from the images come as no surprise to modern-day Colombian society: human life is worth nothing in this "twilight zone" of the world.
Who is "Fernando"? He represents a philosophy, an ideology. As such he personally doesn't exist. But he will reincarnate with a new name and a new face anywhere humanity drops to any significant low. Fernando is a product of our own cosmic human culture.
The last scene in the movie is very dramatic. Shunning physical light from entering his apartment, after Wilmar's violent death, the apocalyptic man finally walks into the spiritual realm of his own intrinsic darkness. Quietly, patiently, very much alive, he waits for the next young homosexual lover to knock on his door. Whoever thinks a little will know that the whole absurd and hideous vicious cycle of death and destruction will start all over again.
Aníbal J. Rosario
