Direction: Lois Patiño
Country: Spain
The penetrating mystery at the core of this foreboding tale of loss, grief and abandonment, together with the film’s striking visuals and immersive narration, distinguishes Red Moon Tide as a remarkable debut feature from Spanish filmmaker and cinematographer Lois Patiño. Both the symbolism and the dichotomy between realism and surrealism bolster these tides of despair, which slowly emerge as a unique, uncanny neo-noir experience.
The few elderly inhabitants of a small fishing village located in Costa da Morte, Galicia, lament the recent disappearance of Rubio (Rubio de Camelle), an experienced sailor who had rescued many bodies from the sea, so their families could say goodbye and have peace. Now, it was his turn to be swallowed by the sea - that monster that always comes with the moon tide.
Rubio’s mother prays to the witches and three of them arrive from unknown places in an attempt to localize the man’s body. Every sad villager has a different theory about the case, which are presented as thoughts - some of them claim it was the furious sea that has been taking their lives little by little, some other point a peculiarly shaped rock that could have wrecked the man's boat, while other blame the poisonous dam that keeps spreading rust and corrosion all over.
Whether captured by the slow movements of the camera or spotted in still frames that stress the village’s inertia, the ghosts appear in a simplistic form (like in David Lowery’s A Ghost Story) and pose with an aesthetic appeal. It’s all lugubrious, esoteric and bemusedly enchanting, with major contributions of sound designer Juan Carlos Blancas and the cinematographic art of Patiño.
Very ambitious in its purpose and structure, Red Moon Tide rests in an infinite limbo of mourning. Unlike most of the films we see, the uncontrollable sea and sinister moon are the enemies that engulf everyone in a deep and disturbing melancholy.
