At this point, there is a clear expectation of what audiences will find when watching a film by Spanish auteur Alberto Vázquez: a condemnation of complex social issues ranging from environmental collapse to ideological radicalization through the experiences of anthropomorphic characters. The trick is remarkably effective. The dissonance created by watching cute animated animals living in fantastical worlds while undergoing troubles and anxieties eerily similar to our own sharpens the film’s potential for social examination. It solidifies Vásquez as one of the most interesting animated directors working today. However, his latest film, Decorado, an expansion of his eponymous Goya-winning 2016 short film, takes his signature style in a quieter, more absurdist direction that, while fascinating in the scope of its satire, may begin to reveal the limits of his formula.
The film, written by Vásquez and Francesc Xavier Manuel Ruiz, follows Arnold (Asier Hormaza), a middle-aged mouse experiencing a profound existential crisis, fueled by the suspicion that the reality he lives in is a “Decorado.” It makes sense.
He and his wife, María (Aintzane Gamiz), a struggling artist, live in a company town micromanaged by A.L.M.A. (Almighty Limitless Megacorporative Agency). This corporation runs everything with a tight fist, from healthcare to entertainment, leaving him and his neighbors in a perpetual state of precarity. Following the death of one of Arnold’s close friends, Ramiro (Ander Vildósola), who had been investigating the nature of their reality, Arnold embarks on a journey to understand what is real, what secrets A.L.M.A. holds, and what lies beyond the dangerous forest bordering their city.
A quieter form of horror.
The emotional core of the story is Arnold and María’s marriage, which is strained by constant economic pressures and Arnold’s lack of purpose. This allows the film to be slightly quieter than its predecessor, Unicorn Wars, while placing greater emphasis on the depth of its characters. Audiences really come to understand Arnold’s sense of ennui. There is constant focus on his escapism through cartoons and enough backstory to fully imagine how what once seemed to be a happy mouse quickly deteriorates. On the other hand, María is given ample depth, especially regarding her professional struggles, her constant sense of imposter syndrome, and the literal manifestation of depression as a fairy.
In Unicorn Wars, the horror emerged through constant exposure to gore and the characters’ descent into fascism. Decorado presents a different version of horror that is less extravagant, but all the more real. Seeing the mice worry about losing their home, María questioning their marriage, and Arnold sitting alone, watching reruns of “Duck Roni,” make audiences connect with their struggles and sense of stagnation. The film is also clearly reminiscent of Scenes from a Marriage, which Vásquez has mentioned as an inspiration.
Furthermore, while Orwellian critiques of unchecked capitalism are abundant, Decorado also excels by providing additional depth to the nature of complex social systems. It would have been very easy to portray everyone involved with A.L.M.A. as villains who sought to make Arnold, María, and their neighbors suffer. The film emphasizes how, within these systems, people like Mr. Mushroom, a salesman for A.L.M.A., are still subjected to the same precarity and financial pressure. There is even an extended sequence in which we meet former A.L.M.A. employees who were pushed out of town and now live in the forest while struggling with addiction.
The limits of critique.
Yet, there’s a point at which the amount of commentary in the film becomes slightly overwhelming. The underlying notion of how these issues connect is logical. At times, it seems that Decorado is trying to comment on a variety of issues that, fundamentally, water down the film’s emotional anchor.
There’s a subtext about predatory healthcare companies, gentrification, and even modernity’s relationship with spirituality. This, combined with increasing fourth-wall breaks, laugh-track gimmicks, and background characters repeating what the film already conveys, results in the film’s commentary losing its focus. It’s most evident towards the end, when the subject shifts from corporate greed to the arbitrary nature of the systems that hold reality.
However, the excellent animation style helps overcome the overstuffed commentary. The attention to detail helps emphasize the difficult conditions the mice live in and truly shines during some of Decorado’s most mystical moments. A standout is the summoning of a spirit or an owl chase through the forest. All of this, punctuated by classical music soundtracks and constant montages of the critters’ daily lives in the city, makes the film feel strangely hypnotic. Decorado balances existential dread with moments of genuine beauty and melancholy.
The Bottom Line.
Decorado is another successful entry in Vásquez’s filmography of fables of cute creatures suffering through the horrors of civilization. Through its portrayal of a jaded Orwellian world and its focus on the humanity of the core mice, the film offers an insightful exploration of some of the most challenging aspects of contemporary economics. Even if its social commentary occasionally loses focus under the weight of its many ideas, Decorado remains a visually mesmerizing and emotionally resonant exploration of stagnation, purpose, and the quiet despair of modern life.
Decorado is out now in limited theaters. Watch the trailer.
Images courtesy of GKIDS.
REVIEW RATIING
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Decorado - 7/10
7/10
Based in Mexico, Pedro Graterol is the News editor for TV and Film of InBetweenDrafts. He is a Venezuelan political scientist, violist, and a nerd of all things pop culture. His legal signature includes Sonic The Hedgehog’s face.
