The legacy of Mexican comedy essentially begins with the birth of Cantinflas – not necessarily the actual entry of Mario Moreno into existence, but rather the moment he transitioned into the persona that would serve him well for his entire career. This came in the form of You’re Missing the Point (Spanish: Ahí está el detalle), which was not Moreno’s first film, but it was the pioneering appearance of the Cantinflas character, which proved to be such an enormous success that it came to define him as a performer, even going so far as to become his new stage name, and the moniker by which he was almost exclusively referred to in subsequent years. Its difficult to argue against the resounding popularity of this film – a hilarious and irreverent comedy-of-errors that sees some of Mexico’s finest comic minds holding court under the careful guidance of director Juan Bustillo Oro, You’re Missing the Point is the kind of work that feels both defining and experimental, made at a time when Mexican comedies were not particularly popular, especially to those from outside the country, but which proved to be so successful, it launched not only the lead actor’s career as a global icon of Hispanic comedy, but an entire industry based around the very clear desire to see these stories told, and from this effervescent and often subversive perspective. It’s a marvel of a film, a small but fascinating satire that is both entertaining and thought-provoking (albeit not to the point of being heavy-handed) and it all comes about through some of the more engaging, riveting moments that are embedded deep within this fascinating story.
Social satire is not the easiest genre in which one can work, despite the belief that it effectively just requires a wicked sense of humour and the right amount of sardonic commentary that keeps the viewer engaged. The best satires do include these qualities, but filter them through a lens that is both resonant and artistically relevant, which is not always easy to accomplish, especially if the subject matter is intrinsically tied to a particular time and place, which is essentially a common obstacle for most satires. There’s a sharpness to You’re Missing the Point that makes it so effortlessly entertaining, since Oro (and screenwriter Humberto Gómez Landero, with whom he collaborates closely in the construction of this story) works on developing many of these ideas with surgical precision. The satire is extraordinarily obvious, and very little effort is put into concealing what is being lampooned here – but herein lie the elements that single-handedly make You’re Missing the Point so engaging, where there is never any need to actually dismantle the storyline in a way that needs to hint at deeper meanings and force the audience to actually do the work themselves to understand the purpose of the story. Oro and his collaborators make everything straightforward, which gives them the space to construct this wickedly funny parody of the wealthy class and their upper-crust ruminations, as seen through the eyes of those who may be much lower in comparison to their social and economic class, but who frequently outrank them in nearly every other department, including in wit, resourcefulness and the most basic intelligence, proving that no amount of money can actually buy one common sense.
Essentially, You’re Missing the Point is built on a solid but predictable premise, namely that a group of characters interact, and in the process anything that can go wrong will eventually happen, and it is only a matter of seeing how these characters will manoeuvre their way out of it, or rather determining which of them will actually make it through to the end, since this is an oddly perilous comedy (how many mainstream films begin and end with lengthy sequences surrounding the killing of a dog, which eventually converges in a major legal battle?). The joy that comes from this film arrives in the fact that very little here actually makes sense, but we are so invested in the story, we barely even notice – and the entire production is such a carefully-constructed piece of hilarious chaos; the pure value that comes in the film’s efforts to entertain allows us to overlook the frequent flights of fancy from which the film is formed. Its hardly surprising that this served as a pioneering work of early Mexican cinema – it didn’t create the industry, but it certainly pushed it forward, and the massive success of the film is seen in the fact that You’re Missing the Point is as beloved today as it was nearly a century ago, with the comedy being fresh and invigorating, and the storyline, as absurd as it may be, bears a lot of resonance to the contemporary world, almost to the point where this film is oddly prescient on matters surrounding the class divide and social conventions, which are effectively and thoroughly lampooned throughout.
At the heart of all of this is one very striking performance, which feels both well-formed and meaningful in a way that we don’t often see in such broad comedies. You’re Missing the Point represents the transition Mario Moreno made to become Cantinflas, essentially signaling his journey from a well-liked actor with a strong sense of humour to arguably the most beloved Mexican comedian of his generation, someone who was adored while he was alive and cherished as an icon after his death, becoming an institution all on his own. Like many great comedic actors, Cantinflas worked best when he was having fun, and there is not a moment in this film where it feels like he is doing anything but finding the balance between work and leisure, portraying the main character in a way that feels both authentic and wildly entertaining. It’s not a surprise that this character would become a recurring archetype for him throughout his career – a lazy, wisecracking freeloader who has the capacity to get himself out of absolutely any scenario, which is a good foundation for a wide range of comedies, especially those designed to be vehicles for his comedic talents. Cantinflas joins an elite group of comedians who adopted strong personas that were frequently part and parcel of their broader careers – and while many worked laboriously to ensure that audiences knew that they were merely playing characters, Cantinflas relishes in it, knowing that audiences respond to such characters, and that there were limitless opportunities to develop the role in many different ways. It’s a masterfully strong effort that is well-formed and very funny, and proves the pure dynamism from which his entire career was built.
You’re Missing the Point is widely considered one of the most important works of Mexican cinema – and while it may seem peculiar for a film that is essentially nothing more than a fast-paced comedy-of-manners to be seen as a hallmark of an entire nation’s cultural history, it’s not that difficult to understand how it earned such a reputation, and the reasons for many seeing this as a major entry into the history of Mexican art, which owes a lot of gratitude to the risky gambit that was the creation of this film. Few works have been as dedicated to exploring social and cultural dynamics in a way that is refreshing and entertaining, especially not when it comes to matters as delicate as those covered throughout this film. Not many can also attest to being the literal birthplace of an iconic character, as well as the mainstream breakthrough of an artistic icon that represented the country in the global space for decades, rising to the status of a true hero of Mexican cinema, a firm and proud representative of the nation and its people. You’re Missing the Point may seem slightly dated, and its humour is predictable, but the combination of outrageous slapstick and very funny satire, coupled with a story that has a lot of depth to it when we take note of the extent to which the filmmakers are going to construct it, makes for a film that is as much a triumph as it is a masterful comedy that never retreats from giving us a thoroughly entertaining and deeply captivating experience.
