Rozinda Why the title? Because they said Whisky when we'd say cheese for a photograph smile. I wonder if that's true or just for the movie? The factory owner Jacobo needs a wife and it seems to me this is because he actually has one and his brother will expect to see her, but we only hear of her once - when Marta is at Jacobo's home and "his wife" phones asking for him. Marta puts down the phone and that's it for the wife - enough to explain Jacobo's need for Marta's co-operation.Spoilers follow It's not too difficult to guess how the story ensues and it isn't a story for startling surprises. It's sort of every day and yet not, and poignant. Marta makes a mistake that may just indicate to the brother that she isn't Jacobo's wife - one time Jacobo said they honeymooned in Brazil, but later Marta says if she could afford it she'd have a holiday in Brazil. Unlike cold, emotionless Jacobo, the brother is a nice guy who clearly loves his chilly brother and comes to like Marta too. I felt this significant once we'd reached the ending.As for the ending, don't read on unless you want to know it but I just loved it. Every day, several times in the movie, Marta waits for Jacobo to open the factory. After the brother has gone home and Jacobo has paid Marta (rather a lot of money that his brother gave him out of guilt as well as friendship), Marta doesn't thank Jacobo by continuing in her job. She doesn't turn up. Are we surprised? Jacobo used her with cold ruthlessness whilst she was I would guess fond of him. But we reckon we know where's she's gone.......... spending the money in Brazil. Good for Marta! You can be used just once too often and then you rebel, that's the moral of the story.Splendid movie, very pleased I watched it.

Andres Salama This droll, deadpan comedy from Uruguay, clearly influenced by directors such as Jarmusch and Kaurismaki, is a real find. Directors Rebella (who killed himself shortly after this film was released) and Stoll, tell the story of two middle aged Jewish brothers. The elder brother has remained in Uruguay, running a decrepit sock factory, and acts taciturn and resentful, feeling life has cheated on him. The younger, more easy going brother, has moved to Brazil, where he has raised a family and runs a successful textile factory in the Sao Paulo area. When their mother dies, the brother in Brazil returns to Uruguay for the funeral. So that his younger brother will not pity him, his older brethren asks a middle aged, somewhat plump employee to pretend to be with his wife when his brother returns (this plot point is not really very believable, but in the cinema you sort of accept it). There is little else plot wise to the movie, as the brothers and the fake wife tour some of the deserted, sunless beaches of Uruguay to kill time and to get acquainted (or reacquainted) with each other as well as to settle past scores. To those that thing South America is everywhere a tropical and exotic place, they might be surprised to see a movie that is somewhat reminiscent of the old Eastern Bloc movies (Uruguay is well to the south of the tropics, its climate is temperate, and is the least typically south American of Spanish speaking nations in the continent). In a way, this movie might be also be a metaphor of Uruguay, once a country that was called the Switzerland of South America for its democracy and progressivism, but that in the last few decades has seen nasty military dictatorships, and some of its infrastructure and social capital run down. Worth seeing and quite moving.

Dude-E this movie is just plain awful, dull characters, superficial storyline,no humor. tension, twists or anything challenging whatsoever you just keep wondering what the hell you've just watched for the past 90 minutes, because there is actually nothing going on in there. i just can't find one good thing about this movie it's boring, and you actually feel like it's gonna last forever, let me describe it that way: take 3 middle aged people, and let them spend couple of days together babbling nonsense on and on. and that's what you gonna get if you feel like sleeping. i usually watch lots of foreign movies and this is the worst iv'e seen this year, go watch the sea inside. cause this one just don't worth 90 minutes of your precious time.

danielhsf Much nothing ever happens in your life.You go through the routine of sleeping and waking at the same times, travelling to work on the public bus, spending your day at your job which doesn't give you any kind of immediate remuneration. Your mind idles off to whether the money for the job is worth spending your life on, then you take the public bus home again, looking out at the sights you are used to, listening to the music you feel the most comfortable in. And usually on this bus ride home, most of the angst you feel in the morning is replaced by a irrepressible fatigue that tells you honestly that life is not just about chasing pipe dreams; life is also about going through it as best you can and surviving.And as this goes on you get used to not expecting much out of life, not expecting much out of relationships, because that's the easiest way to be, just being. There is not much need to expand, really. There is not much need to feel the crests and falls of emotions. There is not much need to continue seeking, to continue dreaming, to continue hoping. And this is by no way any mistake; this is only part of the process of going through life, getting eased into it to not allow yourself any more anger that comes from lost hopes. Soon, as you get settled into your groove, you don't find going through the same days mundane anymore. You don't question what is expected of you out of life. You don't feel the need to keep expanding and expanding anymore.Once in a while, you grant yourself the pleasure of watching a picture in a darkened cinema, vicariously and voraciously living the lives of people you don't know; people whose lives seem more exciting than yours; people who experience highs and lows so much that you feel as if you are experiencing the same highs and the same lows. You sit alone in the darkened theater by yourself--you are used to being alone--while somewhere else behind you, young couples are busy checking each other's necks out with their tongues. You see this, but you don't bother. You are only interested in the people living on the screen with you, sharing with you their pains and their hopes. Then you walk out of the cinema, and your life returns back to you. You realize that it is only a short relief, before you have to face reality again, the reality that you are really not so special.Sometimes, the people in the movies cease being characters. They cease becoming people whom you fantasize about or feel pity for. Their lives suddenly seem so mundane and simple to you, and like you, they have stopped dreaming and started living in the real world. You see their everyday movements, everyday actions of endless repetition, and their normal, placid emotions that do not dare affect them in their daily lives. You grow so used to the repetitive actions, the repetitive shots, the repetitive dialogues, their every movement, that you find them so familiar. You feel as if you are sharing in some of their private lives, even if it is just make-believe. And when they discover something kind or special in their routine lives, your eyes widen and your heart fills with warmth. Mundane lives can be so beautiful too! You tell yourself secretly.And in their daily effort to live, you see how their lives subtly affect other people's lives. You see how such small acts of kindness, can gladden your heart. You see how they are used to their loneliness, and then when they find companionship, you see how gladly they hang on to them, no matter how minute their friendship may seem. You see how comical they are in their lonesome blues, and you sneak a laugh at them, knowing fully that at the same time, you are laughing at yourself and with them too. Then you find that after all, there is comedy in pathos, and there is sorrow in bliss too.At the end of the movie, the movie ends and the characters fade away into the blackness of the screen and the dark recesses of your memories. And suddenly you miss the repetition that bored you earlier, the simple mundaneness that was conveyed so simply. As you walk out of the cinema and see people walking out together with you, you feel more alone than ever before, as you're deprived of your newfound friends that you have fallen in love with in that short span of 95 minutes; like when you get used to being with other people, being lonesome again suddenly seems so difficult. And as you sit at the back of the cab on your way home, you feel that you've lost something special, even if that specialness came from make-believe situations, and a tear runs slowly down your cheek.