Rating: NR | Runtime: 84 minutes
Release Date: June 28th, 2024 (USA) / August 15th, 2024 (Argentina)
Studio: Cinetren / Hope Runs High Films
Director(s): Tomás Gómez Bustillo
Writer(s): Tomás Gómez Bustillo

She’s going to have to explain herself to the Lord.

Despite the synopsis inferring that Rita Lopez (Mónica Villa) is intentionally seeking a way to achieve sainthood through nefarious means, the truth is actually more heartbreaking. Seeing the way Father Eduardo (Pablo Moseinco) looks at the other three local parishioners who come to their cathedral each day has instead made her jealous. She can’t sing like Beba (Silvia Porro) nor is she extroverted enough to inject herself into their clique as more than a pitiable outsider. So, she decides to do something that will get her noticed. She decides to refurbish an old statue found under blankets to look like one that’s gone missing. Rita wants her act of “discovering” it to be a sign from God.

The problem, of course, is that this statue appearing out of nowhere would present this small Argentinean village with more than just a “sign.” This discovery would constitute a miracle. Does that realization make Rita change her mind? Will its escalation in importance give her too much attention? Maybe. But she craves it. She craves purpose—something she’s lost when it comes to her marriage with the kindhearted romantic Norberto (Horacio Marassi). Every time he tries to rekindle a spark and remind her how much he loves her, Rita ultimately shuts him down to focus on this elaborate quest instead. She puts everything into seeing it through no matter the consequences.

I don’t want to give too much away about Tomás Gómez Bustillo’s wonderful Chronicles of a Wandering Saint, so I’ll just tease that this journey doesn’t even span half of the film’s runtime. While the act itself finds a conclusion for the rest of the plot to progress from, however, the desire remains. Rita still wants to be seen in a way that she doesn’t believe she can without a bit of external assistance. And her changed circumstances also give her the confidence to make herself known in more intentionally self-serving ways in the process—ways that supply her the satisfaction of having affected those around her even if they don’t know she has.

The true beauty of Bustillo’s work arrives in the opposite direction, though. It’s that world being impacted without its knowledge that’s the message at its core. A scene where Norberto is looking out the window in awe and imploring Rita to come see the “dancing” is so much more than just a lark. She dismisses his joy as childish, calling the “dancing” pants hanging from the clothesline what is: the wind. Herein lies the chasm separating them. Norberto sees beneath the surface whereas Rita is trying to construct a false one atop it. We later discover why—that some tragedy struck them and erased her ability to see “further.” Maybe another can remind her how.

There are some really great moments that I can’t fully talk about without ruining some reveals. Just know that Bustillo cares little for mainstream constraints when it comes to telling the story he’s crafted. Whether that means an unorthodox use of credits or an effective look behind the curtain of reality itself to witness the glow of angels and demons alike, he’s going to push the envelope and take us through the veil for comedy and drama alike. Because despite the dark subject matter, this is a very funny film. One that’s probably at its funniest when staging a death scene. It’s equal parts melancholic in its tale of rekindled love and absurdly fantastical in its bureaucratically pragmatic idea of the afterlife.

In the end, perhaps there’s a reason Rita never stood out. Maybe she was always most in her element when observing. Standing behind doors and floating through rooms with her cleaning rag to eavesdrop on what’s going on. Because even though she yells at Norberto to stop trying to make her “watch his every move,” you must wonder if after forty years of marriage he simply assumed she enjoyed watching him play his guitar because she always had. And depending on what you believe happens during the final scene, she might just make the choice to never miss another song again.

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Mónica Villa as a wandering spirit in CHRONICLES OF A WANDERING SAINT; courtesy of Hope Runs High.