Thursday, October 23, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: Diaper trail

Casa de los Babys adopts a balanced view of Third World exploitation

By By Jeannette Catsoulis

To the extent we can ever expect anything from director John Sayles, we expect him to kick up political dust. He has rarely disappointed, consistently illuminating the complexities of race (The Brother from Another Planet), economics (Matewan), sex (Lianna) and class (Baby, It's You) without the pretense of easy solutions.

Casa de los Babys touches on all of the above, but so liminally the film never really finds dramatic focus. Six women, in various stages of emotional dysfunction, sit fretting in a hotel somewhere in South America until their adoption requests have been approved. Exactly why they're braving Third World legal purgatory for their own personal bundle of joy is soon abundantly clear: No self-respecting First World agency would approve these women for so much as a puppy, never mind a helpless infant.

But Sayles isn't playing this for humor. From a crass kleptomaniac (Marcia Gay Harden) to a born-again alcoholic (Mary Steenburgen), these gals are psychological fixer-uppers using babies to do the fixing. Men are an unsavory background presence, either useless (according to Lili Taylor's spiky New Yorker) or controlling (Maggie Gyllenhaal conducting anxious cell phone conversations with her demanding husband). Ever fair, Sayles gives each of his actresses exactly one good scene; but as with 2002's Sunshine State, the sheer size of the ensemble cast dilutes his attention and we never get to know anyone beyond their quirks.

Thankfully pulling us away from all this maternal obsession is Sayles' sketch of the cottage industry that depends on yanqui childlessness: the casa itself, run by a fearsomely efficient Rita Moreno; the slippery lawyer who mediates with the serene Catholic orphanage; the unemployed construction worker-turned-tour guide. All benefit from the excessive red tape and endless delays, but Sayles' point--that exploitation is rarely a one-way street--is expressed so carefully and with such even-handedness that the movie becomes an ethical wash. Only the exuberant street kids, lying and stealing and huffing happily from aerosol cans, seem vividly alive. Their presence reminds us that the only ones without a choice in this strange scenario are the babies themselves.