Driving in the dark of night, in the middle of nowhere, a car takes a right turn and disappears. Descending. Not to death. Hell is one word for it. Another is role-playing. Another is the seer. The opposite of which, is the monkey. Three Monkeys is one of the greatest films of the year from a country that is not in its cinematic golden age, but which we ought to applaud for one of the greatest efforts of contemporary cinema. In a world wherein art has no place whatsoever, the world of the film, where death is as close as stupidity and narrow-mindedness, love forgotten and humanity reduced to means, this film attempts to rekindle a glimpse of hope for those who see it. But it is as fragile as the ghost of a child that haunts its inhabitants. A brilliant cast, almost flawless cinematography and a poetic direction reminiscent of the great works portraying Hell, this film welcomes a refreshing take on realism with surrealist brush-strokes that in my opinion could only benefit from one single element: a return of the gaze. Unfortunately, this film may be lost in the torrents of mainstream audiences. It is also to be respected then, for not making any effort, not pretending, and in my view, ultimately disregarding, any aspirations to popularity. This is fully in accord with the atmosphere of the film itself. And this, if anything, demands critical appraisal.
