Official Competition: Penelope Cruz shines in biting movieland satire
One thing Hollywood loves to celebrate is itself. There are numerous movies of the highs, lows, and in-betweens of the American film industry, but not as many that focus on European cinema. New comedy Official Competition puts prestige cinema in the spotlight, and comes up with a winner.
Set in Spain, an elderly millionaire (José Luis Gómez) tries to soften his legacy by financing a film that will be guaranteed to win awards. He buys the rights to a Nobel prize winning book, and hires maverick filmmaker Lola Cuevas (Penelope Cruz) to direct, who in turn casts beloved actors Félix River and Iván Torres (Antonio Banderas and Oscar Martínez) in the leads.
Despite the promising company, egos and eccentricity threaten to derail the production before a single scene is shot. Industry comedies that are full of in-jokes can be tedious, so it’s a relief that this film chooses to mock rather than congratulate.
The pomposity of the artistic process is exposed in moments such as a scene where Lola makes her stars act a scene underneath a dangling boulder, or Banderas’ covering his co-star in spit during his vocal warm ups.
Just when you think things are taking a dark turn, one of the characters is on hand to remind you that this is a world of narcissism, where nothing is a disaster as long as the lighting is right.
Martínez gives a clever performance as Iván, the thespian who pretends to not be interested in awards but secretly resents his colleague’s acclaim. In contrast to his artsy turn in Pedro Almodovar’s Pain and Glory, Banderas is all surface as a beloved A-lister whose sincerity is as fake as his on-camera tears.
The film belongs to Cruz, however, brilliantly skewering the invasive methods of the auteur, who uses borderline abusive techniques in the name of innovation. The trio’s contrast of bravado and vulnerability keeps things interesting until the hilarious climactic twist.
While not on the level of Robert Altman’s The Player, Official Competition is an observant send up of the self-importance of the festival circuit. Cinema buffs may squirm at the derision, but few can deny the accuracy of this caricature.