The death of a loved one is undoubtedly a difficult time, but just as undoubtedly, a lot of the difficulties stem not from straightforward grief, but from the suddenly pertinent issue of money. Only weddings kick up as much dirt. Whether settling debts, distributing legacies, or selling property – or more usually, arguing about all of those things – nothing moves faster than a relative with a claim. Rock, Paper and Scissors (Piedra, Papel y Tijera) takes an oblique look at all of this, and is by turns an unsettling, often darkly funny piece of film, albeit that some of its initial promise dissipates, moving for a long stretch into something more surreal in nature. However, references to The Wizard of Oz abound, and that film’s focus on the importance of home – as well as its child-like, unreal and possibly allegorical world – run throughout, lending Rock, Paper and Scissors a tangible precedent.
After the death of her father, who had been disabled and ill for some time, Magdalena (Agustina Cerviño) arrives at the Argentina home which he shared with her two half-siblings, María José (Valeria Giorcelli) and Jesús (Pablo Sigal). They are politely pleased to see her, though they say they would have been better-prepared, had they known she was coming; Magdalena points out that she’s been ringing and ringing, getting no reply. This, together with María José’s preference for re-watching The Wizard of Oz instead of ever answering the door, indicates that something’s not quite right. Still, Magdalena is invited to stay the night. She’s not planning to be around for long, she tells them, as she’s just there to help them sort out the paperwork relating to the inevitable upcoming house sale and her share in the profits…
This would have gone down poorly with anyone, let alone the siblings who were tasked with round-the-clock care for their father whilst their older sister trod the boards in sunny Spain, but María José and Jesús seem fairly amenable – that is until, oh dear, Magdalena takes a serious fall down the stairs on her way out of the door.
Did she fall, or was she pushed? That is never entirely clear, but she’s badly hurt and gets tucked up in bed to recuperate (hospital is apparently out of the question). She’s now very vulnerable to the attentions of her brother and sister, who seem to each take turns, one seeming reasonable, one seeming unhinged; although the initial high action quickly dissipates (hard not to when someone is essentially confined to their bed) things remain tense, as each character’s motivations remain doubtful. Maria is a dutiful nurse, but a woman completely detached from the outside world; Jesús is far more well-rounded and sympathetic, right up until he isn’t, and each of these three vacillate in their feelings about one another. Comparisons to Misery (1990) are hard not to make, and there are many similarities in the basic set-up. Certainly, Annie and Maria aren’t a million miles apart, each obsessing over a fantasy, whilst getting on with the hands-on business of looking after a vulnerable person who may well be in that state because of them in the first place. But things get more interesting where Magdalena starts to exploit weaknesses and doubts in these family relationships; they all know one another and have axes to grind. This gives the film many of its strongest developments, and personally, I think there was scope for more here – the shifts between the unfolding situation and Jesús’ attempts at filmmaking, surreal add-ons though they were, felt less engaging overall. This is really a story of family relationships and there was definitely more to explore, preferably through Magdalena’s pithy psychological warfare.
Still, as a film unfolding in one setting, you’d hope that the house itself provided plenty of interest, and it does. Somewhere between grand and quaint (with marble floors but mundane clutter), it’s both homely and yet bizarrely cut off from the outside world, an outside world we never ever see. Alongside the references to Oz, religion underpins the film too, in the house’s Catholic iconography and in the beliefs of its inmates – this is as close as we get to another place outside the front door. Against this backdrop, alliances are forged and broken, characters shift and change and Magdalena does whatever she can to escape the situation she is now in. Narrative events are slow to come along during the middle act of this film, but in the meantime, the characters do have enough about them to keep you wondering about their eventual fates, as well as the back stories which are only hinted at.
Rock, Paper and Scissors is, after all, a slow-burn family drama, one which dips into dreamlike horror in some respects. Solid performances, particularly from the ambiguous María José, and strong visuals help to sustain the film’s ghastly spin on family politics. And, if it has any lessons for us at all, it’s to always pack the correct phone charger when heading off to see estranged relatives. You just never know.
Rock, Paper and Scissors will be available On Demand on July 6th 2021 from Dark Star Pictures.