FILM REVIEW: El Tecolote rating on “The Other Barrio”: 4 out of 5
By Mabel Jiménez
After a long wait, “The Other Barrio”—a film everyone in the Mission has been talking about since production started in the summer of 2012—will finally make its premiere at Brava Theater on Sunday, Feb. 8.
The 91-minute movie is based on a short story of the same name by San Francisco Poet Laureate Alejandro Murguía. Originally published in 2004 as part of the anthology “San Francisco Noir,” the tale is based on the true story of the 1975 fire at the Gartland Apartments at 16th and Valencia streets.
The blaze, caused by landlords hoping to claim insurance money, claimed the lives of at least 12 people. Though the tragedy was fictionalized by Murguia, and later adapted to the 21st century for the film, the story feels all too real, showing how the forces of greed and corruption can bulldoze over people’s lives.
Actor Richard Montoya plays Bob Morales, a jaded but honest housing inspector investigating a fatal fire at a residential hotel set in the present day Mission District. As he unravels the details of the arson, he discovers corruption at City Hall, and encounters a woman from his past. The beautiful actress Veronica Valencia plays the perfect femme fatale in Sophia Nido, a woman with the power to help—or really hurt—Morales’ investigation.
The story serves as the perfect medium to display the onslaught of gentrification and displacement currently bleeding the flavor out of the neighborhood. One character comments: “These tech kids want to live in edgy, cool, hip hoods, without the actual hassle of homeless people, the working poor, the undocumented, or, God forbid, a real fag with HIV.”
Yet while dealing with serious topics, the film uses humor to lighten things up, mainly through rants about the changing character of the neighborhood and jabs at hipsters and techies. A homeless character in the film drunkenly states: “For I too have walked in the shadow of the Valley of Silicon.”
Though used as comic relief, the film is careful not to lay all the blame on techies and hipsters. It reminds us that much of the current displacement is the result of economic forces and policies that subsidize the gutting of entire neighborhoods.
The film exposes the economic and racial inequalities Missionites see day to day; all the villains and most of those in positions of power are white, but so are some of the homeless. However, the film also shows that privilege can be used in favor of the greater good. At one point, Morales is invited to a secret meeting, where he suspiciously asks, “Who’s the white boy?”
The man answers Morales’ question with: “An attorney specializing in renters’ rights for Section 8 tenants and class-action lawsuits against developers who prey upon and discriminate against the poor. That’s who the white boy is.” The attorney goes on to play a key role in helping Morales, who ends up overcoming his own prejudices against whites.
The tale is largely told through Morales’ inner dialogue in true film noir fashion. The style is also evident in the use of light to convey emotion: we only see sunlight in scenes where Valencia appears. All scenes without her are filmed in the dark of night or indoors. Viewers won’t see any sunshine again until the closing scene.
The story was originally supposed to be one of three that would interweave through the film: The Mission, Chinatown, and North Beach. However, due to budgetary constraints, the movie was limited to only the tale taking place in the Mission. Some scenes linger more than they need to, and this may be due to the efforts to fill in a story originally meant as one third of the movie.
There is one important development that is conveyed to the viewer by showing a newspaper headline, where it would have been satisfying to see the news played out in the film instead. However, due to budgetary limits, the producers had to get creative.
Montoya and Valencia are excellent actors and have great chemistry—an intimate conversation is played through with no cuts. But the main character is the Mission District itself. For longtime residents, the supporting characters in the story will feel like someone they’ve met before. Familiar artists and activists play themselves in cameos, lending authenticity to a film conceived and almost entirely produced by longtime Mission residents.
The story is labeled as fiction, but if you live in the neighborhood, it might feel like a documentary. The real eviction of Encantada Gallery is mentioned (which El Tecolote covered in its July 4-17, 2013 issue) and a major scene happens at Esta Noche, the only Latino LGBT bar in San Francisco, which closed in the spring of 2014.
Perhaps this is the film’s greatest success: the Mission portrayed faithfully by those who know it best. The accuracy is reassuring. It would be impossible for an outsider to capture the neighborhood’s essence in the way “The Other Barrio” has.
However, it’s not the kind of story where everything gets resolved; this is film noir after all. The story puts the ball in the audience’s court, hoping that they will pick up the struggle for justice where the movie leaves off.
The satisfying ending will leave the viewer hopeful, but with the sobering knowledge that there is still much left to do. It’s a film everyone in the Mission should see.