Amores perros. Alejandro González Iñárritu, 2000.
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Edition screened: Lions Gate DVD, released 2003. Spanish language with English subtitles. Runtime approximately 154 minutes.
Summary: Extremely graphic dog fighting scenes and image of dying, bloody dogs.
Again I will clarify that I have no interest in discussing whether the violence and anguish depicted in this movie is real or simulated. That tiresome badminton game is merely a distraction from two points of legitimate interest:
1) Real or simulated, the scenes themselves are graphic and upsetting, and it is the mission of this project to provide viewers with a warning.
2) The mere presence of the filmed acts fosters an attitude of acceptance. Just read the comments on Amazon from people who think they are expressing a thoughtful, adult attitude:
• “Hey, this is real life. Dog fighting is real”
— The obvious response: Well stop bolstering that culture by regarding it as an inevitable fact rather than a badly-chosen option.
• “Grow up! It’s just a movie you PETA loser.”
— Yes, it is a movie. A movie that teaches mean and stupid people about new ways to torture animals beyond the typical household abuse and state-licensed killing sprees they already enjoy.
Amore perros is divided into three acts, three separate dramas of fractured relationships and dog companion animals. The lives of these unrelated characters intersect without their knowledge, this time at the scene of a car crash. The car chase and crash serve as an introduction to the film itself and to most of our main characters. The locale then is revisited as we learn more of the circumstances.
The first act, “Octvio y Susana” (60 minutes) focuses on the illegal gambling of dog fighting matches. The dog fighting scenes are extremely violent, with depictions of bloody dead dogs being dragged away, dogs quivering in death agony, and many scenes of the fierce fighting.
The second act, “Daniel y Valeria,” (3o minutes) is a trite story of a celebrity injured in a car accident. She and her lover allow their small pet dog to be lost under the floorboards of their apartment for days. He finally is retrieved, bleeding and rat bitten.
The third act, “El Chivo y Maru,” (55 minutes) is the story of an impoverished man hired for a contract kill. A group of kind dogs is his family, murdered by a trained fighting dog while the man is away. We see detailed images of the mangled dogs lying in puddles of blood, and particularly of one small dog quivering in painful death.
Amores perros is an early work by an fine director and is a good vehicle in many regards. However, there is no way to view it coherently while omitting or diminishing the graphic violence portrayed. In the first act, cruelty and death are riddled through the entire narrative. In the second act, the short scene of the wounded dog (1:32:10-1:32:35) easily could be skipped, but this story is the weakest of the three, almost stupid, and hardly worth the effort. In the third act, again it would be possible to omit the scene of mass carnage and what follows (2:00:30-2:03:31), but this scene is the emotional and narrative climax of that story and possibly of the entire film.
If you have the nerve to say “Oh, I can’t watch bear to watch that,” then you damn-well better also have the nerve to speak against the interchangeable, real, events that are licensed by your state and organized by your local hunt clubs.