* reviews of things i found on (mostly) netflix *
* now with more spoilers *
Tu Hijo [Your Son]
Tu Hijo tells the story of a doctor, Jaime, whose son Marcos is attacked at a nightclub and left for dead. The young man is left in a coma with extensive injuries to body and head, and his father, grief-stricken and upset, searches for the people who did this to his boy.
He tries at first to work with the police, but the police haven’t been able to find any particular leads, so the doctor starts looking for the culprits on his own. He confronts his son’s friends and girlfriend, only to find that the friends seem scared to talk about the perpetrators and the girlfriend, Andrea, is now an ex-girlfriend who doesn’t want to talk about Marcos at all.
Jaime doesn’t let this set him back; he persists in seeking answers, until finally stumbling upon first a name of one of the attackers, and then a video of the attack itself. Unfortunately he has not come across the video in a way that allows the police to use it as evidence, putting Jaime back at square one where he feels even more desperate than before.
When we meet Jaime and Marcos, we see a close and loving relationship between father and son; they care about each other and enjoy spending time together. We also see Jaime at work, where he’s saved a little boy who doesn’t seem to want to go home; Jaime intuits that the boy’s father is abusive and tries to come forward about it, but his colleague reminds him of the strict protocols about evidence and procedure that attend such an accusation … basically, we’re introduced to a man who wants to protect children, but he’s limited by the very systems he needs to use to do the right thing.
When Jaime becomes desperate and even angry at Marcos’s silent friends and at the boy whose name he was given, we understand completely. We watch the video as Jaime does, and the brutality of the beating Marcos endures is difficult to see. Even if we’re not ourselves parents, we have no trouble justifying Jaime’s feelings of rage and his desire for justice. As he takes more and more into his own hands – venturing into a world he may not be able to get out of – we’re on his side, fully comprehending where he’s coming from and why he needs to do this. We share his frustration with a system that has to follow every protocol and dot every “i” before making a move even against the obviously guilty. We want to champion him, because we can sympathize with his grief, and we do so in this film even after it’s become evident that we might want to reconsider.
Eventually it comes to light that Marcos had cornered Andrea at the nightclub and, in the guise of “staying friends”, convinced her to sit with him in his car for “old time’s sake”. Once she was in the car, Marcos and his friends attacked her, filming the rape on Marcos’s phone so that he would always be able to see how he had gotten back at her for dumping him.
Marcos’s sister, who is Andrea’s friend, finally shows Jaime the video, but instead of being horrified at what his son had done, Jaime is angry at Andrea – he realizes that the beating was a retaliation against Marcos by Andrea’s new boyfriend, and he decides that this makes the attack her fault. Even in this moment, we still want to like Jaime, to understand that he’s a father gripped by grief and sadness, and that learning such a dark truth about his son must be incredibly difficult to process. But at this point in the narrative, we’re beginning to see why it’s called “Tu [Your]” Hijo instead of “Mi [My]” Hijo: we’ve watched what we thought was Jaime’s descent into a dark world, but in fact he had always been in it, and Marcos is in fact his son – like father, like son.
Jaime’s final act – the final scene in the film – shows us conclusively that the apple has not fallen very far at all from the tree, and that neither of the two men we had been connected to since the opening credits were particularly deserving of our support.
Is it all right for Andrea’s new boyfriend to beat a man nearly to death for her rape? In a different kind of film – an Equalizer or Deathwish sort of film – it would have been acceptable and even necessary. But we’ve been watching a more realistic film, filled with straightforward characters whose depth and motivations parallel real people. Their actions are the kinds of things that actual people are able to do – no heroics or fanfare or unnecessary drama – and when they’re unable to act, this mirrors reality as well. So we’re left asking ourselves, do we feel good about Marcos’s attack now? Do his horrible actions justify what was done to him? Should Andrea and her boyfriend not have followed the same protocols and procedures that have been presented throughout as the “right way” to do things? Probably they should have … but we also understand their motivations as completely as we ever understood Jaime’s.
Ultimately, no one really wins in this film. Marcos is still in a coma and not likely to recover. Jaime has lost connection to his wife and daughter, who haven’t been able to reach him through his feelings of vengeance and despair. Lives have been lost, lives that may or may not have deserved to be cut short. “Truth” and “justice” have most certainly not been served. Andrea has suffered cruelly at Marcos’s hands, but would have a hard time proving that at this point; she also has to live with what has been done to Marcos on her behalf. Should she care about that? Maybe not, but since this isn’t an Equalizer or Deathwish sort of film, there is that lingering question: do two wrongs make it right? The part of us that loves Equalizer and Deathwish wants so much to say YES! This was justice! But the part of us that was worried about Jaime as he seemed to be losing himself in a world of darkness – that part of us isn’t so sure. And the part of us that watches Jaime cover for his son’s misdeeds certainly feels like two wrongs didn’t make any part of that “right”.
The hardest part of this film is also the best part – we feel very attached to Jaime, to Marcos, to their family, and to the tragedy that has befallen them. We’re encouraged to imagine, through the realistic depiction of characters and events, what the situation would be like if we were in it. Jaime’s helplessness is our helplessness. His pain as he watches his son be beaten into unconsciousness – that’s our pain. Marcos’s mother is innocent, but her son has been taken from her, and we sympathize with her extremely; we can see her suffering and it hurts us too. But precisely because we’ve been so easily drawn into the film, when we discover what Marcos – and then Jaime – really are, we feel the betrayal and the disbelief and the heartache almost as though they were actual people who’ve actually lied to us personally. Andrea’s hurt becomes our hurt too, and we want justice for her at least as much as we did for Marcos.
Tu Hijo is incredibly well-balanced, well-written, and well done. It is definitely worth watching. Having said that, it did punch me in the gut in the end, since I had become so invested in the father’s struggle for his child, and the rude awakening to the facts of the matter were unexpected and not entirely pleasant. Would I recommend it? – definitely. Would I watch it again? – probably not; it’s just so deeply sad.
8 out of 10