Filmmaker Robert Rodriguez knows how to go above and beyond the
call of duty. While some Hollywood directors opt to write their own
films and even edit them, few supply the soundtrack. Rodriguez does
all three. Consequently, his films exude an indie spirit that is
all too rare in mainstream cinema. Supported by several terrific
performances from a diverse cast of talented actors, Once Upon a
Time in Mexico is one of the best popcorn flicks to arrive in
theaters this year.

As with this summer’s 28 Days Later, Mexico is
shot entirely in high-definition digital film. The controversial
decision will undoubtedly offset viewers accustomed to the
traditional 35mm format, but in this case the risk was warranted.
Sergio Leone influences dominate the film, and fans of The Good,
the Bad, and The Ugly will enjoy the acrid, washed-out
environment. Mexico is a modern-day Western and proud of it.

Keeping with that theme, fans of its predecessor,
Desperado, will notice a stark contrast between the Mariachi
of that film and its sequel. Antonio Banderas’ gun-slinging,
guitar-playing hero has gone from a passionate lover to a walking
dead man violently robbed of his past. Where love and family strife
motivated El Mariachi in his last outing, all that is behind him
this time around. A homicidal general named Marquez (Gerardo Vigil)
murdered his beautiful bride Carolina (Salma Hayek) and their young
daughter, leaving El Mariachi for dead.

Rodriguez’s script almost does the same. El Mariachi is no
longer the focus of the film, but a mythic figure in a larger
ensemble cast. Banderas became a star for his charismatic portrayal
of El Mariachi in Desperado, but Mexico finds him
cold, calculating and eager for revenge. Fortunately, Rodriguez
bestows some of the Mariachi’s former flair into a
newcomer–corrupt CIA agent Sands (Johnny Depp).

Depp owns this film, stealing every scene he has. Fresh off his
earlier success as the flamboyant Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the
Carribbean, Depp enthralls again as the enigmatic Sands. Depp’s
noted ability to play against his looks resonates in Sands’
eccentric wardrobe of novelty T-shirts, fake mustaches and cheap
sport coats. Sands’ trashy exterior belies his true
intentions–witty and mellow at one moment, harsh and manipulative
the next, Sands constantly leaves the audience guessing his next
move. If his last two films were any indication, mainstream
directors would be foolish to avoid Depp’s eccentric work ethic at
the expense of a memorable character for their movies.

If one flaw may be found in Mexico, it is that the film simply
tries to do too much in order to avoid branding as a typical
blockbuster. Amidst the stunning action sequences, driving
soundtrack and innumerable double-crosses, some characters are left
out of the loop. Willem Dafoe is painfully underused as the cartel
kingpin Barillo to free up more face time for heartthrob singer
Enrique Iglesias and Marco Leonardi as El Mariachi’s unnecessarily
recruited sidekicks.

The plot may be muddied at times, the cinematography initially
awkward, but make no mistake–Once Upon a Time in Mexico is
a rollicking triumph of an action film. Rodriguez has expertly
crafted a stylish Hollywood blockbuster infused with his trademark
Mexican flair. Viva Mexico indeed.