Man in Water ★½

Class differences and careerism are not only narratively at the core of Gael García Bernal‘s diffuse directorial debut, which reveals more about both issues through its own shortcomings than its story. Its title is an unsubtle allusion to the hapless hero getting out of his depth after saving wealthy Mexican magnate Abel (Jorge Salinas) from drowning. This act of heroism happens on a Cuban beach where Camilo (portrayed by Bernal, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Mariano Pensotti) works as a lifeguard. His unspectacular routine is uprooted as Abel uses his millions to whizz him away to his Yucatán factory.

There Camilo gets a leading position in complete disregard of his utter lack of professional experience in the field. To make up for Camilo saving his life from the waves, Abel seems determined to return the favor by pulling him out of his modest means. Or at least that is what Camilo’s life circumstances are supposed to present, though they are in fact rather comfortable—especially in light of the personal restrictions that come with his newfound prosperity. Personal and professional support comes with certain unspoken expectations for Camilo, who soon is pushed to feel more obligated to his jovial benefactor and soon-to-be father-in-law. 

Camilo’s conventionally attractive wife Juana being a professional pole vaulter serves as a tell-tale sign of the high-flying ambitions and competitiveness of the family he is now a part of. Literally and figuratively, he belongs to Abel, whose gestures of generosity come with an unspoken understanding of indebtedness. Introducing the pragmatic protagonist, whose initial job represents his straightforward morals and practical inclination, to a milieu of power and corruption is also a tactical move. Camilo’s newfound financial freedom provided by his job as Abel’s advisor and assistant comes with its own kind of captivity. The world of prosperity is also a realm of shady deals and capitalist corruption, eroding his principles. 

As Abel’s designated yes-man, Camilo and the audience are never left in doubt that any authority on his side is through his family relations. Their hierarchies persist in his marriage with Juana. Her fetishizing of his—comparatively—lower-class position and ordering him around during sex is treated as a joke that involuntarily exposes Bernal’s patriarchal perspective, mirrored by his skewed views of class relations. His protagonist is ridiculed for his supposed emasculation because he gets up at night to soothe their baby daughter and listens to his wife’s sexual desires. Despite leading a comfortable middle-class life, he is supposed to be working-class and as such a romanticized representation of content simplicity and physical capability. 

Such clichés say a lot about where, according to Bernal, poverty and powerlessness begin and what they mean, while the overwrought story fails to gain any psychological or socio-political insight. This is also because the plot is cluttered with secondary narratives and supporting characters, many of them sexual objects like seductive babysitter Malvina (Anna Díaz), Abel’s pregnant lover Silvina (Natalia Oreiro), and actress Fabiana (Débora Nascimento) cast to play Juana in a film about her life. This smug showcase is mocked as a byproduct of privileged ennui, when it’s hardly better than Bernal’s plethoric debut feature. Its observations about social status and power structures repeat satirical platitudes, and in doing so are never particularly entertaining.