Films that you didn’t love but also didn’t hate are the most difficult to write about. Not because it’s hard to emulate what you mean but because feelings about them are mixed and too often don’t reflect everything that you feel. That’s why writing this is hard because I wanted to love Chicuarotes and sometimes I did. Sometimes I saw the brilliance behind Gael Garcia Bernal’s film. But then that little flicker of hope that was in me slowly dissipated only to be replaced mostly by annoyance. Chicuarotes is the in-between for me, the film that I liked and hated at the same time, a film that walking away I just thought that I had seen it, didn’t feel anything extraordinary whether positive or negative that would have been. It was simply a film that I had a witness.