Dispensing with the conventional murderer-investigator duel that propels most serial-killer pictures, first-time Spanish writer-director Jamie Rosales' The Hours Of The Day immerses us in the banal everyday life of the homicidal Abel (Alex Brendemühl). Running a clothing boutique on the outskirts of Barcelona and living with his widowed mother, Abel spends his spare time hanging out with his girlfriend Tere (Àgata Roca) or listening to the get-rich-quick schemes of his pal Marcos (Vicente Romero). But he also commits acts of unprovoked and lethal violence...
Based on a newspaper story from The Times in 1998, The Hours Of The Day follows in the tradition of European films such as Krzysztof Kieslowski's A Short Film About Killing and Cédric Kahn's Roberto Succo, by avoiding any simplistic explanations for the behaviour of its youthful protagonist. Instead Rosales focuses on the stifling oppressiveness and monotony of Abel's daily existence.
What proves so disconcerting is that the killing of strangers (of which there are two instances) is treated in exactly the same matter-of-fact tone as a quiet drink at a bar, or a discussion with an employee over severance pay, or the viewing with a partner of a flat. Moreover the positioning of the first murder around the half-hour mark generates a degree of tension: Abel seems to make no substantial effort to cover his tracks and every individual he encounters thereafter appears to be a potential victim.
"INTELLIGENTLY RESTRAINED PERFORMANCE"
Shooting with elegant detachment, using fixed camera set-ups and long takes, Rosales and cinematographer Oscar Duran trap their characters in frames-within-frames. Scrupulously avoiding glamorising its subject matter, The Hours Of The Day's low-key resolution refuses to offer any catharsis for the viewer. Yet one can still be impressed by Brendemühl's intelligently restrained performance which conveys something of his character's fundamental unknowability.
In Spanish with English subtitles.
The Hours Of The Day (Las Horas Del DÃa) (2004)
