Every so often, a film with the potential to transcend cultural barriers and convey something timely and important makes it out of Hollywood, and Chris Weitz’s “A Better Life” is just such a film.
Immigration is a hot-button issue in this country, so it would have been easy for Weitz to go overboard with a project like this; there were plenty of opportunities for shallow agenda-driven caricatures, over-sentimentality and ham-fisted moralizing.
Thankfully, Weitz avoided these potential traps, opting to make a nuanced, quality film instead of an idealized fantasy-world where all undocumented immigrants are good, honest people.
“A Better Life,” which is set and filmed in Los Angeles, has a strong, understated script with a story that is simple but compelling and acting that is generally excellent.
In particular, Demian Bichir’s performance as Carlos Galeda, an undocumented, single father struggling to raise his teenage son Luis (Jose Julian) and make ends meet by landscaping the yards of rich Angelenos, is nothing short of outstanding.
It’s the human (rather than socio-political) focus on the father/son relationship between Carlos and Luis that gives “A Better Life” it’s broad cultural appeal—it’s not a story exclusively for immigrants or Latinos, it’s a story for anyone who is striving or has ever strived for something better.
Carlos’ relationship with his son is strained because Luis is disrespectful and, frankly, kind of embarrassed by his immigrant father and the Mexican heritage he represents. Luis doesn’t connect with his father culturally.
At one point in the film, they attend a charreada, a sort of rodeo that has its cultural roots in the haciendas of Old Mexico. When Luis complains about the music and mocks the way the attendees are dressed, Carlos seems puzzled, telling his son, “You love this music, these are your people.”
Luis bluntly rebukes his father, saying, “Not my people,” a line that carries ominous weight because Luis is hovering on the edge of gang involvement.
The difficulties in a relationship between a father and a teenage son are nearly universal, but in the context of “A Better Life,” they take on a new dimension, drawing sharp contrast between the experience of working immigrants and their Americanized children.
The main sentiment of “A Better Life”—and the basis of its name—is encapsulated in an exchange between Carlos and Luis near the end of the film.
Luis asks why impoverished people feel compelled to bring more children into the world, and why specifically Carlos thought it would be a good idea to have a child, given his precarious situation as an undocumented immigrant.
Carlos tells Luis that having him as a son means everything to him. He says that he had a child, despite the risks and difficulties, in the hopes that he might be able to provide his son with “a better life” than he could provide for himself.
That desire is nearly universal, which is why people from all walks of life are likely to find something to appreciate and enjoy about “A Better Life.”