Don't Look Down

Reviewer: James Van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ***

First a few words on writer/director Eliseo Subiela. Talk about onomatopoeia: Say his name aloud and you'll be floating on clouds, a somewhat similar effect to what happens when watching his films. Subiela may be a household word in his native Argentina, but he is hardly one here in the U.S. This is too bad, as we could learn a bit from the filmmaker, whose preoccupations seem to be sex and desire, altered states, reincarnation and how to really see the world (via his own unique vision, anyway).

Subiela's most successful movie stateside is probably Man Facing Southeast (1986, sadly out of print on DVD), although his The Dark Side of the Heart was an enormous success in Latin America, Europe and Canada. Other titles worth renting are Don't Die Without Telling Me Where You're Going, Last Images of the Shipwreck and his sequel, Dark Side of the Heart 2. In all of these, the writer/director combines his penchant for philosophy, history, imagination and physicality into motion pictures that take us places we rarely venture. His latest film is also worth a rent: Don't Look Down.

Though provocative, sexy and charming, I believe it is the least of his films in some time. It tracks the tale of young Eloy (Leandro Stivelman), whose father has recently departed the world, and his sudden involvement with Elvira (Antonella Costa). Their meet-cute is one of the most unusual and adorable in screen history. Post-meet we are treated to copious full-frontal and multiple sessions of tantric sex, during which Elvira teaches Eloy to hold off his orgasms longer and longer until...

In between bouts of lovemaking, the film explores some of Subiela's other favorite interests: Where spirits go, post-mortem; what life is like far above the crowd (Eloy is a stilt-walker, as well as a sleepwalker, which is where the film's title comes from); marriage-and-children versus a life of constant pleasure; and, of course, tele-portation via sex. All of this is interesting enough, very charmingly handled and sumptuously photographed (the cinematography is by Sol Lopatin).

While the movie never shapes into anything more important than its sex scenes, these alone are enough to recommend it. Stivelman and Costa are gorgeous specimens, as comfortable before the camera nude as clothed. After all the pseudo sex with which our own media and movies constantly bombard us, it's a welcome surprise to find a film that serves up lust, lovemaking and pleasure so openly and honestly.