The young priest sits down to hear a girl’s confession. Her name is Amelia and as far as anyone knows, she is a devout Catholic, teaching catechism to the children in her Mexican village when not working in her family’s restaurant.
The nature of her confession, needless to say, comes as a surprise.
“I am very sensual, father,” she says. “I like to caress myself while taking a bath. Is that a sin?”
The young priest considers the question carefully before responding.
“No, it is not a sin.”
“I think of Jesus while I caress myself. Is that not a sin?” she presses.
The second question poses a problem for Father Amaro (Gael Garcia Berual), but not merely a theological one. As the living vessel of Christ (as well as a young man not immune to the charms of pretty girls), the priest wonders if she has just made a pass.
Time passes, Amelia and Father Amaro see more of one another, and as we listen to the girl’s next confession, it becomes clear his problem is far from resolved.
“What are your sins?” the priest asks.
“You know what they are, father.”
“El Crimen de Padre Amaro” (“The Crime of Father Amaro”), an updated version of Eca de Queiro’s 1875 novel, is about a surprising number of things — not merely a priest’s struggle with celibacy, but also the Mexican underworld, its ties with the local Catholic Church, and the failure of that church to operate by its own code of morality. In raising these issues, “El Crimen de Padre Amaro” has become one of Mexico’s highest grossing films despite vehement condemnation from some in the Roman Catholic Church.
But this is a film about a human being, not an organization, and its success hinges on whether we are moved by his personal corruption — the erosion of his ideals as well as his celibacy. This is accomplished simply in some scenes and melodramatically in others, but invariably, the movie is always effective at drawing our empathy.
Bernal’s performance as Father Amaro is immeasurably important. For those who’ve watched the actor burst on to the international scene playing incorrigible youths in “Amores Perros” and “Y Tu Mama Tambien” — two masterpieces that, along with this film, have established Mexico as the world’s newest film-producing power — his transformation here will prove stunning.
As the priest’s crimes mount, the color seems to drain from Bernal’s face. His character withdraws from the sexual affair only to cover up a greater scandal, at the behest of the bishop, involving drug-runners. We see an occasional spark of reflection and even remorse, but the conflict between his ideals and his ambitions is dying fast.
The film’s conclusion feels dark, foreboding and just right — a welcome change during an era in which, increasingly, even good pictures end badly. It plays as lugubriously as the last scene in “The Godfather” — the one in which Diane Keaton turns back to look at her corrupt husband, suddenly aware that their entire life has become a lie.
The difference is that “El Crimen de Padre Amaro” puts Catholic audiences in the place of Keaton, and what we are invited to look back on, just before the door closes off our view, is what our church has become.
Oscar Pool Note: With Spain refusing to submit “Talk to Her” as its official Oscar entry and Mexico’s “Y Tu Mama Tambien” rendered ineligible because of its early release, “El Crimen de Padre Amaro” is now the favorite to win the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.
