In Your Arms Tonight
En Tus Brazos Esta Noche paints a fascinating picture of lovers frustrated by the roadblocks of life as well as their own emotional shortcomings. The film has solid acting and the first two-thirds of a screenplay, and it might reach its potential with some sharper dialogue and a remixed final act.
The plot itself is ripe with emotion: every character feels caught in a trap entirely, save for Maribel, of their own design. Andrés doesn’t know how to reach out to his wife, Maribel, who is still haunted by a recent sexual assault. (Maribel even wears a bright red dress, echoing the bright red lighting seen during the flashbacks of her assault, implying that she is still literally wrapped in trauma.) And so he relieves his tension by having sex with the family maid, Sayra, who in between her flings with her boss cries to herself in the bathroom while Maribel gifts her with fine dresses. Meanwhile their adult son Nanu has stagnated in his relationships (and presumably work) and feels little drive to accomplish anything in life. When the characters finally do break out of their prisons, it becomes almost frustratingly clear that the only thing that ever stood in their way was an unwillingness to give just a little more love.
The scenario is more or less believable. The dialogue, a little less so. Our first interaction between Andrés and Maribel conveys its plot information through stock dialogue that doesn’t draw out the tantalizing complexities of the characters. The dialogue’s pure utilitarianism is nowhere more noticeable than when Nanu sees Sayra step out in her dress. It’s here when, despite not even formally beginning a proper courtship with her, Nanu begins dropping lines like “Pretty doesn’t even begin to describe you,” or “I could stare at you forever.” Lines like these try too hard to steer the characters into predetermined destinations that the plot itself just isn’t pointing to.
Then there’s the mixed bag of an ending. There’s a pleasant symmetry in grafting Sayra into the family formally through her relationship with Nanu, as well as a hilarious inside joke when Andrés realizes the truth about his “grandson.” Even so, the moral inconsistency is a little glaring. Why can we forgive Andrés and Sayra for their transgression but not Caro for hers? Why do they get a happy ending while Caro is forgotten altogether? Moreover we’re supposed to believe that Nanu is ready to dive headfirst into this new relationship with Sayra only hours after ending his relationship with his old girlfriend that he was ready to take out on a date that same night, and the inconsistency is a little hard to swallow. Much of that is simply a consequence of the truncated narrative. Andrés and Maribel reach a more satisfying conclusion (even if it would have been more satisfying to see Andrés more fully own up to his unfaithfulness and endure some kind of consequence before reconciling with Maribel) but I can only be so optimistic with Sayra and Nanu as each other’s rebounds.
Performances all around were great, with Hector Dez (Andrés) stealing the spotlight. Though Andrés is the most powerful character in the film, Dez always plays him like a kid who knows he’s in trouble. Even if Andrés is technically the source of everyone’s strife, he never feels manipulative or selfish. He’s just as much a victim of his own emotional stunting as everyone else.
I would never call the film flawed, but it does feel a little undercooked. The film as is doesn’t quite earn the ending it wants so dearly, but that I spent so much time reflecting on why speaks volumes about how engaging the moving pieces are.
