a film by Marcelo Pineyro "Based on real events, the movie is rich in stylish despair, beautifully bored madness, sex and emptiness." - Liam Lacey "The Globe and Mail Review" The very first time I saw this movie, I was.. how can I say it? Fascinated. A sexy film noir, underlaid with an intense passion you have to see through to the very end. Even in the slower parts, simple dialogue between characters in a dark room, you know there is a climax building. This story can only end in one way after all; you know that from the beginning. What you hope for, however, is that the end will be satisfying. If they live, do they reconcile? If they die, do they at least do so in each other's arms? It's the true story of a now infamous bank heist in Argentina, 1965. A gang of four criminals pull it off: the mastermind, the driver ('Cuervo', played by Pablo Echarri) and Los Mellizos- the Twins, Ángel and Nene. They're in fact not related at all, but a pair of quietly distant men with no past, who met in a public restroom and were inseperable ever since. Everyone in the criminal circles knows that they work together or not at all. They're silently desperate and ruthless, damaged and isolated and drug-addicted. They love each other but cannot seem to reconnect. Ángel (Spanish heartthrob Eduardo Noriega) is the borderline schizophrenic one- he hears voices in his head. He's dark-skinned and smolderingly handsome, with his madness only adding to the mystique of the character. We don't know what drives him or what the voices say besides how they begin to tell him to 'save' himself and his lover, Nene (Argentinian Leonardo Sbaraglia) by refusing him sex. Nene is pale and quiet, but he's the 'thinker', the smart one, driven by an intense love and desire for Ángel that he never names but you can read in all his actions. As the days wear on and the four fugitives are forced into hiding, Ángel's madness becomes worse and Nene is driven to the outside world and outside sex to quench his frustration and fear over his lover. He meets a cynical and jaded prostitute named Giselle and takes physical comfort in her for a little while. It is to her that he voices in hushed and desperate tones what it is that connects him to his Twin. It's not a 'happy' movie, per say, but I wasn't left a wreck like I was after Borstal Boy. I actually felt good about the ending, like it was justified for the means. Oh, and I'm completely in love with Leonardo Sbaraglia (a blue-eyed Argentinian!) click images to view (hold mouse over for caption) >>