There are a lot of jobs in America that make the world a worse place to live. Most people continue to work those jobs. Director Monica Sorrell looks to explain how to swallow that bitter pill in her feature debut, “Mountains,” which follows Xavier (Atibon Nazaire), a blue-collar Haitian-American who becomes complicit in the gentrification of his neighborhood.
After a modest festival run, Discovering Tribeca will open in limited theaters in New York and Los Angeles, but not before opening in Miami—the film’s setting and Sorrell’s hometown. That pride in the city shines through in Mountain, which has an undeniable sincerity and empathy. But the film’s narrative proves less than profound: It’s too careful to penetrate its protagonist’s troubled psyche, reducing the film’s worthy political concerns to sympathetic messages that feel tedious and prescriptive.
Like many American immigrants, gentle giant Xavier aspires to provide a better life for his family. His wife, Esperance (Sheila Anozier), is an avid seamstress and a great cook. She listens to Xavier’s charming ramblings about saving up for a bigger house, though she seems content enough with their current dwelling. Their son, Junior (Chris Renouillé), is chasing something else. While his parents speak Haitian Creole, Junior speaks mostly English, especially when explaining why he keeps leaving the house during dinnertime—a source of increasing concern and disappointment for his father.
Trouble looms, but life is paradise for Sorel. The family’s domestic life is beautifully captured by the director, who prioritizes providing enough breathing space. It’s an effort evident in the colorful interior decor, the patient rhythms of some of the chores, and the quiet, measured tone of the conversations. The immigrant family is held sacred, and sacred things are often threatened.
In “Mountains,” cinematographer Javier Labrador departs from the style of many American independent films, often eschewing handheld cameras and opting instead for strong, motionless compositions. This approach lends the domestic side of the film a steady calm. But this strange visual balance also matches the way Xavier nonchalantly surrenders to the insidious forces of the market. On the job, he wears a helmet and a construction jacket—not to build his neighborhood, but to tear it down. Now his longtime demo crew is waiting for permits before swooping down like vultures on vacant homes, bulldozing them to make way for newer (but not necessarily nicer) ones.
“Mountains” mostly sticks by Xavier’s side, oscillating between work and home. As the lead actor, Nazir is such a strong screen presence that it takes a while before you realize that the relationships the film politely discusses are going nowhere. The script frustratingly prevents the resilient character from self-reflection without elaborating on why (class anxiety or old-fashioned male stubbornness are possible explanations).
Whether he’s mediating a fight between a coworker and a racist employee or demanding that his college-dropout son stay home for dinner, Xavier seems compelled to maintain the status quo throughout his life, under the impression that trusting the process will ultimately serve him. Morel and co-writer Robert Cullum don’t see this behavioral pattern as something to be fully contextualized or even considered; rather, it’s meant to be broken—and not until the end of the film. The story stumbles from one thing to another before lurching toward the end, with Xavier suddenly contemplating the possibility that he’s had enough. The arc is fast and painfully awkward.
But there’s one narrative aspect that makes a big impression: when “The Mountains” follows Junior out of the house, he reveals himself to be a stand-up comedian. His style is popular with audiences, but his jokes are not very well-thought-out: He plays up stereotypes about immigrant fathers who are like wet blankets. This scene, about halfway through the runtime, is an unexpected and welcome expansion beyond the film’s narrow focus on Xavier’s contradictory lifestyle and his failure to see it.
And through the content of his comedic performance, Junior’s mockery of his background is even more pronounced. This raises a thorny question: Is it really worth talking about your immigrant parents behind their backs to please a crowd of hilarious Miami immigrants? As with the rest of the film, Sorrell refrains from passing too many judgments here, too. But it’s no coincidence that “The Mountains” becomes most penetrating and sustained in this small open mic, the place where the director stretches beyond her emotional comfort zone.
