When I'm homesick, I find myself looking for ways to reconnect with my home country. Lately, I've been doing so through movies. I hope some have watched La pasión según Berenice (The Passion of Berenice) the topic of my last text. This time, I’m diving into a much more recent film: Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (2022), available on Netflix. It's one of those films that hits close to home for anyone who has grappled with the complexities of identity and migration. Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu, this visually stunning and thought-provoking movie delves into the inner world of Silverio Gama, a journalist and documentarian who, after years of living in the U.S., finds himself caught between two worlds—his Mexican roots and the life he has built abroad. The movie depicts the often painful ties between Mexico and the United States in a humorous way.
The first word of the title refers to the Buddhist concept of a liminal state between death and rebirth, a perfect metaphor for the existential mid-life crisis Silverio experiences throughout the film. Iñárritu, whose work often touches on themes of identity and displacement, returns to Mexico for the first time since Amores perros (2000) to tell this deeply personal and surreal story. Bardo marks Iñárritu's first film to be fully shot in Mexico since Amores perros. Through it, he once again delves into the complexities of belonging, migration, and the human condition, using Mexico as both a literal and symbolic backdrop for these reflections. For anyone who has ever felt like they don’t fully belong in one place or another, Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths speaks volumes.
The film's narrative unfolds in a unique and dreamlike way, blending surrealism with historical fiction. Silverio’s memories, dreams, and existential reflections weave together to tell a story about the struggles of having a mixed identity. Much of the story revolves around migration and the fraught relationship between Mexico and the United States, a theme that resonates profoundly with many Mexicans and Mexican-Americans. As someone who has had to navigate this same relationship between two cultures, I felt the weight of Silverio’s journey and the tug-of-war between the country that shaped me and the new life I’ve built elsewhere. It’s a struggle that goes beyond borders—it’s about who we are when the two worlds we live in pull us apart in different directions. I’ve explored this theme myself in a short story published in Mexico by Literature Magazine. My short story Al sur de la frontera, tells the story of two irregular migrants crossing the desert to the U.S., reflecting the physical and emotional trials of displacement, and survival.
Migration, in Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths, is not just about geographical movement; it’s about the psychological and emotional displacement that so many of us feel. Silverio, though successful in his career in the U.S., is haunted by feelings of inadequacy and guilt. He’s constantly reminded of his roots but doesn’t feel fully accepted in either country. This feeling of being in between is something that hit very close to home for me. Iñárritu perfectly captures the dissonance many migrants experience—the feeling of no longer being fully part of one culture but never fully belonging to another.
One of the film’s most powerful moments for me was Silverio’s conversation with his deceased father in the bathroom. It’s a moment that reflects a deep need for approval and validation from a parent. Silverio confronts his father, yearning to hear those long-awaited words of pride. His father finally tells him, "I’ve always been proud of you." This moment struck a deep chord for me because of my own complicated relationship with my father, who, like Silverio’s, has struggled to openly express pride or affection. The catharsis Silverio feels in that moment is something many of us long for but rarely experience.
Another compelling moment in the film is Silverio’s interview with Hernán Cortés, the Spanish conquistador. In this conversation, Silverio challenges Cortés on the brutal conquest of Mexico, which serves as a metaphor for the lingering impact of colonization on mestizo identity. This confrontation reflects the film’s exploration of historical and personal reckonings. It reminds us that Mexico’s complicated relationship with its colonial past is mirrored in the personal identity struggles of individuals like Silverio who straddle two cultures.
As much as Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is about Silverio’s personal journey, it’s also about the broader narrative of Mexico's complicated relationship with the U.S. and how many migrants feel torn between two worlds. Silverio’s success in the U.S. doesn’t erase the fact that he is still deeply connected to his Mexican roots, and throughout the film, we see him grappling with questions of identity, belonging, and purpose. Even language plays a role in his struggles, as seen when his youngest son refuses to speak in Spanish. His journey is an allegory for the experiences of countless migrants who feel they belong neither here nor there.
The film’s surreal imagery often blurs the lines between life and death, past and present. In this liminal state, we see Silverio’s memories, anxieties, and hopes all meld into one, creating a rich tapestry of emotions that many viewers will find both disorienting and perhaps cathartic. The film doesn’t offer easy answers, but it opens up a conversation about what it means to belong, both to a country and to oneself.
In conclusion, I highly recommend watching Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths on Netflix. For anyone who has ever felt torn between two cultures, two identities, or two lives, this film will strike a powerful chord. Iñárritu invites us to reflect on what it means to belong and challenges us to confront the truths we may have buried in our pasts. Have you watched it yet? If not, I encourage you to dive into this cinematic journey—you might discover your own handful of truths along the way.
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Alejandra Gotóo (Mexico City, 1991) writes to explain herself the world where she inhabits. Her work has been published in Spain, Mexico, Chile, Colombia, Peru, and Croatia. She holds a master's degree in Social Anthropology and a bachelor's degree in English Literature. Nowadays, she is a columnist in Dubrovnik Times. She has two published novels, Ruptura and Isadore or Absolute Love. Her topics of interest include nature, adventure, language, books, food, culture, animals, conservation, and women's rights. She also writes in her blog: Cardinal Humours.
