Contents
- 1 A Crazy Ride of Stories with No Missing Threads
- 2 The First Punch: “Pasternak”
- 3 A diner, a cook, and some poison make up “Las ratas.”
- 4 Road Rage on Steroids—”El más fuerte”
- 5 The Man Who Snapped—”Bombita”
- 6 The Bad Side of Privilege – “La propuesta”
- 7 A Crazy Wedding: “Hasta que la muerte nos separe”
- 8 Why It Works So Well
- 9 Awards And Recognition That Matter
- 10 Last Thoughts Before I Shut Up
A Crazy Ride of Stories with No Missing Threads
Damián Szifron wrote and directed this 2014 satirical, absurdist black comedy anthology, which has become a cult favorite for people who like their movies raw, dark, and sometimes a little too real. There are six short films in it, and they don’t have the same characters or plots. Instead, they all deal with themes of catharsis, revenge, and the violent mess that happens when people lose their temper.
Let me say this right away: anthology movies are hard to make. Most of the time, they either don’t work or seem like half-finished experiments. But what about Wild Tales? It stays together in the most chaotic way possible. Every part is like a punch to the gut, but the humor is so dry that you almost choke on it.
Spoilers Ahead
The First Punch: “Pasternak”
Imagine getting on a plane and slowly realizing that every person on board had done something wrong to the same man. Sounds like a movie you wouldn’t see on a plane, right? That’s how Wild Tales starts: quietly, with humor that creeps in, and then it hits you with absurdity. “Pasternak” is a great place to start because it sets the mood: revenge isn’t clean; it’s messy and brings everyone down.
A diner, a cook, and some poison make up “Las ratas.”
Now, let’s talk about one of the darker stories that is also funny in a strange way. A waitress sees the man who ruined her family’s life sitting in her restaurant like it’s no big deal. What would you do? Give him coffee like nothing happened? Or, like the fiery cook, decide that his dinner needs some extra “seasoning”? The tension isn’t about what happens to the bad guy (we kind of want him to go), but about the boy who comes in and eats his father’s food. The violence, the moral uncertainty, and the chaos all feel too real.
Road Rage on Steroids—”El más fuerte”
In the American version, this one was called “Road to Hell,” and I can see why. Two drivers, one too many insults, and all of a sudden we’re watching masculinity explode in the middle of nowhere. It starts with one car passing another, then it turns into windshield smashing, insults, and finally an explosion—literally. It’s crazy, but also scary, because who hasn’t seen people get angry on the road? But here, Szifron turns that brief anger into a full-blown ego apocalypse.
The Man Who Snapped—”Bombita”
This is the story that really got to me. Ricardo Darín plays Simón, a demolition expert who is sick of the system that makes life hard for regular people, as well as bureaucracy and towing scams. His car keeps getting towed, his family is leaving, and the quiet man with patience finally loses it. The next thing that happens is both funny and sad. People start to see him as a hero, so they call him “Bombita” after what he does. This part alone could have been a whole movie, to be honest.
The Bad Side of Privilege – “La propuesta”
This one will stay with you long after the movie is over. A rich family’s son kills a pregnant woman in a hit-and-run, and all of a sudden everyone is in the living room trying to figure out how much justice is worth. It makes me sick because I believe it. Money talks, deals are made, and morality is sold like a family heirloom. When the scene ends, you’re not even angry anymore. You’re just numb and wondering if that’s how things always work behind closed doors.
A Crazy Wedding: “Hasta que la muerte nos separe”
The last one is just plain crazy, and to be honest, it’s the best ending. A bride finds out that her groom has cheated on her right in the middle of the dance floor at a fancy wedding. Instead of leaving in a huff, she sets fire to the whole night. There are screams, fights, broken glass, and, strangely enough, a strange kind of reconciliation. It’s loud, messy, and strangely freeing. You almost want to cheer because it’s so sad and funny at the same time.
Why It Works So Well
Here’s the deal: Wild Tales doesn’t just shock for the sake of shocking. Each short story looks at a different aspect of human behavior, like anger, betrayal, entitlement, and desperation. Things we see every day, but they don’t always get as big as they do in movies. The movie takes those little, annoying things that are always bothering you and pushes them too far.
The cast also deserves a round of applause. Ricardo Darín, Érica Rivas, and Oscar Martínez all act in a way that never feels staged. In that wedding scene, Rivas is especially unforgettable.
Awards And Recognition That Matter
Sometimes it’s easy to ignore awards, but this movie deserved all the attention it got. It won the BAFTA for Best Film Not in English, the Goya for Best Spanish Language Foreign Film, and was even nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. It was also well-received at Cannes, where it was nominated for the Palme d’Or in 2014. And here’s a fun fact: it became the most popular Argentine movie ever. That says a lot about how people felt about it.
Where You Can See It
It’s not easy to find Wild Tales (Spanish: Relatos salvajes) on streaming services, but if you look around on sites like Amazon prime for suggestions, you might find some. The sad part? It might not be available in English in all places. But believe me, it’s still a great movie even if the translation isn’t perfect.
Last Thoughts Before I Shut Up
Wild Tales is not an easy movie to watch. It wasn’t meant to be. It is a mix of satire, absurdity, and violence that shows us how fragile civility really is. People fall apart at the drop of a hat: one wrong look, one selfish choice, or one bureaucratic push.
I sometimes think that the movie is just a reflection. Under all the jokes and explosions, aren’t we all a little bit like Pasternak, Bombita, or Romina? Not the same extreme results, but the same bottled-up anger.
Anyway, that’s enough of my talking. I’m going to close my notebook now. If anyone looks through these pages later, all they’ll see are scribbles about anger, laughter, and that weird feeling you get when a movie won’t leave your head.
