Language Barrier

Spanish director's Alex de la Iglesia's The Perfect Crime is one of the best comedies in years.

"I have to say first, that my English is not very good," warns Alex de la Iglesia, the acclaimed director whose new film, The Perfect Crime (which has also screened as El Crimen Ferpecto, or Ferpect Crime) opens in Portland this week. De la Iglesia is being shuttled around Los Angeles as he attempts to establish himself in Hollywood, and as he rambles over the phone, laughing every few seconds, it sounds like he's having more fun than anyone ever should have.

"That's OK," I say, trying to reassure him. "Your English can't be worse than my Spanish."

"No, my Spanish is bad, too," responds de la Iglesia, bursting out in another explosive round of laughter. "I am some kind of real bad guy-I can't understand anything."

In truth, understanding de la Iglesia can be difficult. But that has less to do with his Spanish accent or the bad cell-phone connection than with his self-deprecating sense of humor. Ask him a question and he's likely to use it as an excuse to make fun of himself. "I am the classical, not very well-educated guy," says de la Iglesia in response to a question on his artistic influences. "I went to the university to study philosophy, but it was impossible. I cannot understand anything."

Maybe de la Iglesia really is as simple and intellectually limited as he claims to be. Perhaps his English skills are minimal. When it comes to the language of cinema, though, Alex de la Iglesia is a fluent orator, a multilingual auteur whose work exhibits a confidence and bravado seldom seen in American films-or in films from anywhere else on the planet, for that matter.

By de la Iglesia's own admission, Alfred Hitchcock is his mother, Roman Polanski his brother (his father it seems, is the anti-Christ). A student of John Ford's westerns, cartoons and comic books, de la Iglesia started his career as a cartoonist. His first feature film, 1993's Mutant Action, produced by legendary director Pedro Almodóvar, launched de la Iglesia's career, garnering him a cult following.

The Perfect Crime has been slowly making its way across the United States this past year, playing at arthouse theaters and film festivals while converting more and more fans. Inspired by director Roger Corman's 1964 adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe's Masque of the Red Death, The Perfect Crime is de la Iglesia's best work to date. It is both a stunning visual masterpiece-thanks in no small part to José Moreno's cinematography-and laugh-out-loud funny. A wonderful mix of dark, social satire and physical humor, the film transcends language barriers and cultural differences, emerging as one of the best comedies in the past few years.

Set primarily inside a huge department store, the film stars Guillermo Toledo as Rafael, a hotshot salesman in the women's department who has a storewide reputation as a master cocksman with a taste for the finer things in life. "I would rather die than live an ordinary life," explains Rafael, who has sexually serviced his most beautiful co-workers.

Rafael aspires to be floor manager, a position in his world that is tantamount to being a king. But when his arch rival, Don Antonio (Luis Varela), gets the position, Rafael's world spins out of control. During a volatile confrontation, Don Antonio is accidentally killed. Lourdes (Mónica Cervera), a homely co-worker who has long pined for Rafael, covers up the crime and uses her knowledge as leverage to blackmail him into becoming her lover.

A twisted, black comedy reminiscent of Paul Bartel's classic Eating Raoul and the Coen brothers' Fargo, The Perfect Crime is poised to be the film that will finally make real the promise of de la Iglesia's becoming the "next big thing" in Hollywood. For nearly a decade, the director has been compared not only to fellow Spanish director Almodóvar and Mexico's Guillermo del Toro, but to the Coen Brothers, David Lynch and Peter Jackson as well. And while films like 1995's brilliant Day of the Beast have continued to build his cult status, most of America has yet to discover the director-except, of course, for Philadelphia. In the City of Brotherly Love, de la Iglesia has become an adopted son. His films regularly show at the annual Philadelphia Film Festival, with The Perfect Crime opening this year's festival (it also screened at WW's Longbaugh Film Festival).

De la Iglesia joins the list of international directors like South Korea's Ki-duk Kim (3-Iron) and Brazil's Fernando Meirelles (City of God) who are putting American filmmakers to shame. These are the filmmakers who were inspired by the likes of John Ford, Billy Wilder and Jean-Pierre Melville, as opposed to those who want to be the next Kevin Smith. These are also the filmmakers who represent the best hope for quality filmmaking. For de la Iglesia, the possibility of finding critical and commercial success in the United States means the possibility of making a film in Hollywood instead of Spain, where the director's vision has been curtailed by a lack of financial resources. "I am very excited, because I have too much ideas," says de la Iglesia in broken English. "But a lot of ideas are very expensive, and maybe I can make it here."

Not rated. Cinema 21, 616 NW 21st Ave., 223-4515. 7 and 9:10 pm Friday-Thursday, Sept. 23-29. Also 2:15 and 4:30 pm Saturday-Sunday. $4-$7.

WWeek 2015

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