Carancho was exciting (and outrageous) for a while, and about midway through I thought Oh I really like this movie. This is good.
But Carancho wore thin with me during act three, and by the end, the movie collapsed in on itself. I suppose the ending of the film is meant as a kind of commentary about life and death and control over circumstances, but it felt like a kind of overly neat shrug to me, as if not much of it mattered.
I watched this because it stars Ricardo Darín, who I love, and because it was leaving the Criterion Channel at the end of June.
