City of Dreams, 2024.
Written and Directed by Mohit Ramchandani.
Starring Ari Lopez, Alfredo Castro, Paulina Gaitán, Diego Calva, Renata Vaca, Jason Patric, Andrés Delgado, Adriana Paz, Karla Coronado, Rich Paul, Adina Eady, Francisco Denis, Hrach Titizian, Dominic Pace, Bailey Kai, Tatiana del Real, and Samm Levine.
SYNOPSIS:
Inspired by a true story, City of Dreams chronicles the journey of a Mexican boy whose dreams of becoming a soccer star are shattered when he’s smuggled across the border and sold to a sweatshop in downtown Los Angeles.
Writer/director Mohit Ramchandani’s City of Dreams does such a stomach-churning job of depicting how insidiously border smuggling can be a deceptive means of selling a child into an underground sweatshop that it becomes twice as infuriating when the screenplay regularly falls into contrived nonsense. To clarify, this is an issue that should be addressed and is effectively done so here when sticking to the catacombs-like look of the sweatshop, the grueling work hours, and the sadistic abuse inflicted on these teenagers whenever someone falls out of line. It is also heavily implied that some of the girls on hand are chosen to be moved into sex trafficking rings. There is also a bonafide emotionally gutting performance by young Ari Lopez, who is Jesus in the lead role.
Born on Easter in a complicated birth that tragically resulted in the death of his mother, life has never been easy for Jesus. However, his father (Babylon star Diego Calva in a small role) has scrounged enough money to pay a mule to drive him to America (fake passport and all) to a Los Angeles-based soccer training camp. Furthermore, the opening sequence shows Jesus imagining playing for a professional team, which gives viewers a sense of his legitimate skills (not that it is a requirement to pursue an American dream, but it drives the point home that the kid is gifted.)
In some ways, it’s a shame the dark turn this film takes must be revealed to write about it because I read absolutely nothing about it before pressing play and assumed it would follow through as an inspirational tale of becoming a professional soccer player. And there is a subtle brilliance to how that lengthy car ride conversation plays out, lulling the viewer into the horror happening here. While Jesus is knocked out from a substance spiked into his drink, a pair of police officers (a veteran played by Jason Patric and presumably a rookie alongside him) stop the vehicle for speeding, making for a scene with overwhelming tension. You don’t care if it’s a movie and there are 90 minutes to go; you want those officers to catch on to the situation immediately and end it.
Aside from the appropriately uncomfortable and harrowing depiction of the sweatshop itself, that’s also, unfortunately, where praise for the film ends. Soon after, there is another scene involving that same police officer, aware that something is not right about the information he received from the mule, heading to the “home,” where Jesus is simultaneously about to escape. His head is literally poking through the front door. Meanwhile, the officer is talking to the tattooed menace in charge of ensuring the kids are working. For some inexplicable reason, the police officer doesn’t see Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t storm out of there screaming and shouting or doing anything possible to convey that there is abuse going on here. Yes, he doesn’t speak English (he doesn’t really speak much at all, which also feels like an overly clichéd and convenient creative choice for the character), but there are universal signs, gestures, and noises to signify trouble.
It’s maddening that this movie isn’t over in 30 minutes, and it’s mostly because the filmmakers have other valid points they want to make about society in a misguided fashion, which I will get to later. Backing up a bit, it could be implied that Jesus isn’t looking to escape immediately because of the girl he has befriended and bonded with (Renata Vaca), but that’s also a dumb reason since he would be saving her if he got the police into that house.
Later on, there is an actual escape sequence that is undeniably suspenseful and pays off on the soccer skills, with Jesus running up and down streets and alleys, maneuvering his way vertically, and jumping off buildings into garbage dumpsters in an attempt to throw a benefiting clothing brand CEO (a racist weasel played by Samm Levine) that once again ends with an interaction alongside those same police officers. To the film’s credit, Jesus is somewhat resourceful here, trying to prove the guy is lying (the name Jesus is either written or tattooed onto his hand, which sets off the officer’s suspicion after being given an incorrect name) and handing the officer a memory card with what might be illegal porn. However, for some reason, Jesus doesn’t do the most obvious thing and show the officer how scarred his body is from the merciless whippings and beatings he has received over the last few months.
The police officers are told by their captain to stand down, which also doesn’t feel realistic considering what they did uncover and how off the entire situation is. Beyond that point, the filmmakers keep extending this film not necessarily to keep showcasing this bleakly honest portrait of child slavery and abuse but more because it wants to make a few copaganda-leaning points about the system and audiences to feel good about officers using blunt force. Not to mention, there is also an uncomfortable misogynistic overtone with the veteran constantly berating his woman partner. Since he is the hero here, it is implied that we should be on his side.
Doubling back to the chase sequence itself, it also goes on for several minutes because, ultimately, it is a heavy-handed way of suggesting that every civilian that comes into contact with Jesus is so self-absorbed in their own lives that they can’t conceive of the possibility that he is in danger, which feels like a load of exaggerated BS for the right-wing crowd. That’s not to say every civilian is a saint or an upstanding person, but SOMEONE would have tried intervening and protecting the child, especially based on the sheer number of people he crosses paths with alone.
Then there are the villains who are given reasons for torturing their people; one is consistent and somewhat intriguing. Meanwhile, the other comes out of left field in the third act as an embarrassing, dumbfounding plea to empathize with a horrific human being. Nevertheless, nearly everything in the sweatshop, from the forged bonds to the terrible abuse to the sinister atmosphere alone, is strikingly directed with an outstanding central turn from Ari Lopez. Meanwhile, anything to do with the outside world is obsessed with clunky messaging, with some characters abandoning all logic.
This is unquestionably an important subject that deserves attention and action, so I’m not advising against going to see City of Dreams. However, it’s a shame the narrative begins so believably and disorientingly queasy only to become a parade of contrivances and more in service of the messaging than the characters. There is no denying the call-to-action importance, urgency, and suspense, but it has significant, unforgivable flaws.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
