Sin Nombre

Cary Fukunaga’s debut feature occupies that, often inhospitable, terrain between socio-political gangster-chase-flick and quietly nuanced love story. Set against a backdrop of post-apocalyptic Mexican countryside the two narratives collide on the roof of a freight train bound for the U.S. Casper is ‘green-lit’ after gang loyalties turn sour, running from a tattoo-ed mob vying for his life; while Sayra is risking the perilous cross-country trek for a better future across the border. Fukunaga weaves joltingly visceral scenes of bloody gang violence seamlessly into raw panoramic long shots, building a poetic journey that never loses its edge. A pace that would so often render emotional subtleties trite and ineffectual doesn’t seem to affect Sin Nombre and the integrity of both storylines survives, nigh flourishes, throughout. What emerges is a balanced, thrilling exploration into an often misrepresented portion of society, heralding the arrival of an exceptional new talent in American filmmaking.