It seems that one of the great cinematic inevitabilities is that every major director, should they work for long enough, will end up making a film that is immensely personal to them. The two broadest categories are those that focus on their upbringing (which have become more common in recent years), and self-reflective examinations of their lives as artists, which has its roots several decades ago, when directors like Charlie Chaplin and Federico Fellini constructed masterful investigations into the trials and tribulations of those who commit their lives to creating art. One of the more recent examples of the latter comes in the form of Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths (Spanish: Bardo, falsa crónica de unas cuantas verdades), in which Alejandro González Iñárritu carefully pieces together fragments of memory in his pursuit to tell the story of a documentary filmmaker and world-renowned journalist voyaging back to his home country of Mexico, where he is confronted with a range of challenges and obstacles that make this visit all the more difficult, proving that once you have departed your homeland, any return is going to bring about severe complications. Despite being remarkably divisive, it has become almost undeniable that Iñárritu is one of cinema’s most audacious filmmakers, with his sporadic efforts to challenge the conventions of the visual form placing him in a strong position to be seen as a truly remarkable artist, and with this film, he’s provided evidence for both the praise and criticisms he has received over the course of his career, Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths being a bold, ambitious and often impenetrable dark comedy that represents everything worth celebrating about the director, as well as a very thoughtful reflection on his own artistic flaws and characteristic shortcomings, proving that he is certainly self-aware in a way that many may not expect – and while this is not some apologia for his peculiarities that have made him so polarizing, it is the kind of self-reflective, meaningful journey into the artist’s mind that is singularly impossible to ignore, even at its most morally and narratively questionable, which is all part of the fabric that makes this so extraordinarily unique.

Art is not supposed to always make sense, and the preconceived notion that the audience has to receive a thorough explanation behind a work before being able to fully appreciate it has become one of the more unfortunate shortcomings of the modern artistic landscape. Neat summaries and detailed moment-by-moment analyses, mainly written by those who seem to feel it is their professional obligation to convey their interpretation as fact, has become something of an endemic flaw in contemporary art, and is ultimately something that Iñárritu has been fighting against for his entire career, his works often being unconventional and entirely open to interpretation. Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is the rare kind of artwork that loses meaning the more the audience tries to make sense of what we are seeing – for every attempt to rationalize a scene or place it in context with the rest of the film, we will encounter peculiarities that will only complicate our understanding of the material and push us further away from the actual meaning, which really only becomes clear towards the end. This is a film that not only rewards those who are capable of suspending disbelief and just leaping onto the story’s unconventional wavelength, but also punishes those who put in too much effort into trying to understand aspects of the story that we not there to be interpreted as anything other than jagged, unconventional fragments in the protagonist’s mind, which in turn reflect the director’s own unique artistic curiosities, which he throws onto the screen with fervent candour, while never intending to reveal everything that compelled him to tell this story. It’s not an easy film to embrace – if anything, it can be quite difficult to form a lasting connection with. Scenes don’t flow into each other particularly well, and the lines between fact and fiction are beyond blurry. However, there comes a moment when we realize that this is all intentional, and that these ambiguities are actively designed to stir confusion (and by extension provoke thought), which is the turning point for when we realize that  Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is a work of singular genius, and a film driven by its outright ambition to challenge the boundaries of artistic expression in its own unique manner.

It’s a foregone conclusion that many will view Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths as nothing more than a pompous excursion in which the director inflates his own bloated sense of self-importance by placing himself at the centre of the story, the character of Silverio Gama acting as a surrogate for Iñárritu, the vessel through which he navigates his own identity as a filmmaker and artistic voice that has found considerable success, but yet still clearly feels like there are unresolved issues that need to be addressed, which serves as the foundation for many of the vignettes we encounter throughout this film. There is a madness that drives this film and makes it so peculiar – nothing seems to make sense in the world that Iñárritu is presenting to us, and we struggle to understand how certain scenes fit into one another, especially when we take a few steps back and actually try and piece together the brief but clearly meaningful fragments, which form a vibrant but unconventional tapestry that propels the entire story. The only important meaning we need to glean from this film is that it serves to be an artistic examination into a world that has been driven to the point of post-insanity, where everything has seemingly descended into a carnivalesque nightmare, a dark version of recognizable environments that are driven less by logic and more by the most visceral, hideous aspects of humanity, which the protagonist (who is perhaps the only purely good character we encounter in the film) is tasked with making sense of it, which is singularly impossible to do when absolutely nothing he encounters seems to be driven by logic. The audience has to take a similar approach of just surrendering to the meandering aspects of the story, since it all begins to fall into place the more we voyage through the world with this character. It’s certainly an interesting approach to the filmmaking process, and the director places a lot of himself in the central role, which is primarily why some have dismissed Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths as nothing more than pretentious self-indulgence. Whether or not this is true remains to be seen, but it’s certainly not a film that is defined by its more subtle elements, which makes it far more captivating.

Regardless of how one feels about the director’s approach to using his own experiences as the centrepiece of Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths, we can all agree that Daniel Giménez Cacho gives a performance that is nothing short of astonishing. A terrific actor who has been given the opportunity to interpret many exceptional roles under the guidance of some of the greatest directors of their generation, Cacho is well-established as a master of his craft, so much so that his very casting in this film was an immediate signal that it had immense potential. Silverio Gama is a fascinating character – he’s not a bad person, but he is responsible for some poor decisions, whether it be in his professional or personal life, where some of his actions border on being immoral, which makes the fact that he is being awarded a prize for journalistic integrity all the more peculiar. The film doesn’t pay too much attention to his origins, or his journey to get to the place where the story starts (with most of his background coming through in expositionary conversations, or a couple of very brief flashbacks that form part of the surreal fabric of the film), and instead focuses on his present journey, which is an acidic, darkly comical odyssey that anchors the film and keeps it from becoming unwieldy, which was a very likely possibility had the role been played by someone who wasn’t able to ground the character within reality. One of the most deeply committed performances of the year, Cacho surrenders wholeheartedly to the madness that surrounds him, dedicating every bit of effort to bringing this character to life – and it’s even more impressive considering that Iñárritu has a reputation for pushing his actors beyond their limits, to the point where their collaborations are almost a hostile experience. Regardless of how they got to this specific point in which Cacho was able to deliver such a spirited, compelling performance, the results speak for themselves, Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths featuring one of the most committed pieces of acting we’ve seen in years, Cacho capturing every emotion, physical movement and psychological complexity with the kind of deep diligence and enthusiasm that comes when casting an actor of such formidable experience, which is coupled with the director’s intention to use the character as a surrogate for his own quandaries, which forms the foundation for the entire film.

What may ultimately be the most significant casualty when discussing this film is its historical importance. We can wax poetic about how Iñárritu spends nearly three hours exploring the inner turmoil of an artist trying to make sense of the world, but we simply can’t ignore the very clear fact that, at its most fundamental level, Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is as much about artistic expression as it is about history as a whole. The episodic nature of the film lends itself to some very intriguing instances of the director balancing his admiration for the artistic form with some deep reflections on the storied history of his native Mexico, using the theme of homecoming to develop on some complex ideas, which interweave with the surreal style of filmmaking to present an insightful and occasionally very dark glimpse into the past, and its relationship with the present. Whether it be a conversation between the protagonist and the ghost of Hernán Cortés taking place atop an enormous pile of bodies of the indigenous people that were massacred as part of the vicious colonial project (by far the film’s most striking motif, and essentially the centrepiece of the story, at least in terms of components that linger with us long after the film has ended), or a lengthy sequence in which the main character defends his identity as a Mexican, while still standing firm in his belief that he should be allowed to call the United States his home, there is a deep sense of complexity in how Iñárritu is navigating his own feelings about being an international filmmaker – he is someone fiercely proud of his Mexican heritage, but also an artist who achieved the majority of his success internationally – and the sense of displacement that emerges through these conversations are not to be underestimated, since they paint a vibrant and often quite disturbing portrait of the process of reconciling the legacy of the past with our own individual identities, which are often expected to be defined by the history one shares with their homeland. There is likely an even more profound resonance for those of Mexican heritage in these moments throughout Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths, and the director’s insistence on exploring certain uncomfortable aspects of his homeland only adds nuance and complexity to a film that was already a masterful examination of a number of thrilling and compelling themes.

For all of his faults and tendency to prioritize style over substance, Iñárritu certainly knows how to assemble quite an impressive film, in terms of both narrative and visual stimuli. Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is yet another immensely creative achievement from the director, who has shown very little hesitation in actively pursuing the most stunning imagery available to him. It’s primarily a cinematographic achievement, with the director working closely with cinematographer Darius Khondji (himself an undeniable legend in his field, and someone whose work here reminds us of his immense talents) to capture Mexico like it has never been seen before. The film creates a dreamlike environment, one that is detached from all sense of logic, and a lot of that is present in the visual elements – from the first moment (an extended sequence where the main character, seen only in shadows, runs through the desert while sporadically flying through the air) to the final stunning shot, this film is extraordinarily gorgeous. However, it finds beauty in some of the most unexpected places, and much like his previous work, Iñárritu ensures that we won’t be able to anticipate the scope of the creativity that drives this film. Like any great work of surrealism, the film needed to look and sound as complex as the story it was telling, concept and execution going hand-in-hand throughout the creative process, which is something that Iñárritu effectively achieves with seemingly very little effort, each moment being detailed and complex, filled with the most stunning imagery and striking sounds, capturing a visual and aural landscape that fully encapsulates every bit of absurdity and complexity that propels the film. Iñárritu is a remarkable director, and his ability to seamlessly work with some of the best artists in their individual crafts to create this stunning, compelling and deeply layered film, helps elevate Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths to a place of true profundity, even more than we’d expect from a film that was already a work of unhinged imagination.

It’s difficult to not admire Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths and appreciate its very unconventional quirks, even if it is a film that exists to frustrate and bewilder, knowing that in this confusion there will be some fascinating and meaningful discussions, each one steadily growing in complexity until the film reaches its strange but effective emotional and artistic crescendo. Cinema is not supposed to always be comfortable or logical (despite beliefs that everything should be easily digestible, something that the director is actively working to subvert), and no one has been more open about his admiration for intentionally frustrating works of art than Iñárritu, whose masterful excursion into the artistic psyche remains one of the year’s most exhilarating and fascination examinations of humanity, from a director who seems to have a very unique approach to exploring several different themes, each one building on the last as we voyage through the world he is carefully constructing for us. This film can sometimes feel overwhelming, and the sheer volume of ideas and themes thrown at us with an almost reckless velocity has proven to be incredibly divisive, which seems to be the overall intention, and the reason why it has become one of the more polarizing entries into the director’s career, which has never actually seen any meaningful consensus, outside of a few aspects that are universally praised. Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is a film that will likely cause more puzzlement than anything else, with its constant provocation of questions that it shows very little interest in answering, and its actively perplexing narrative not lending itself to easy interpretation. However, there is a sense of relief in realizing that we are liberated from the responsibility of trying to make sense of this film and the world it inhabits. Instead, Iñárritu guides us to the very edge of an artistic volcano, and makes us choose our fate – we can either step away and not see the unhinged artistic brilliance that lurks within, or we can leap into the fiery depths of the film, allowing its peculiarities to envelop us as we explore this bizarre but compelling world – or perhaps we can adhere to the title, standing in a state of limbo, teetering between the two states in a way that evokes the idea of a bardo (the spiritual realm between life and death, a concept that becomes quite important as the film progresses), not knowing which choice to make. Regardless of how one feels about it, Bardo, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths is a film that stirs strong emotions, whether it be of total admiration or deep umbrage – but its truly unforgettable in a way which suggests that either extreme response is entirely appropriate, proving to be one of the year’s most ambitious and deeply fascinating artistic achievements, and another triumph from a truly brilliant filmmaker.