A Dance with Death: Macario
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| Macario (film) Wikipedia |
Released in 1960 and directed by Roberto Gavaldón, Macario became a milestone in Mexican cinema, being the first Mexican film to earn an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Language Film in 1961. This supernatural tale of life, death, and spirituality, set against the rich backdrop of Día de los Muertos, tells the story of a poor woodcutter who strikes a fateful bargain with Death itself. Based on the novella The Third Guest by B. Traven, the film blends the haunting moral of Godfather Death by the Brothers Grimm with Mexican folklore. Competing that year with acclaimed international films like The Virgin Spring by Ingmar Bergman and Kagi from Japan.
Macario held its ground as a unique voice from Mexico, blending magical realism with profound cultural symbolism, capturing the essence of Mexican traditions surrounding life, mortality, and the afterlife.
The Day of The Death
Día de los Muertos, or the Day of the Dead, is a Mexican tradition that honors deceased loved ones in a celebration of life and memory. Originating from indigenous cultures such as the Aztecs, this tradition incorporates both pre-Hispanic beliefs and Catholic influences. Celebrated on November 1st and 2nd, it is believed that on these days, the souls of the departed return to the world of the living to visit their families.
Families create ofrendas, or altars, adorned with photos of the deceased, candles, marigold flowers (known as cempasúchil), and favorite foods of the departed to guide and welcome them. Decorated with colorful papel picado (cut paper) and sugar skulls, these altars are symbolic gestures that bridge the living and the dead. Many families visit cemeteries to clean and decorate graves, sharing stories, music, and memories, transforming the space into a vibrant celebration rather than a time of mourning.
Outline
Macario tells the story of a poor indio in a colonial Mexico who dreams of having one meal all to himself—a roasted turkey—without having to share it with his hungry family. On the Day of the Dead, his wife manages to get him a turkey, but just as he’s about to eat it, he’s approached by three mysterious figures: the Devil, God, and finally, Death. Macario shares his meal with Death, who, in return, gives him a magical water that can heal any illness.
As news of Macario’s miraculous healing powers spreads, he gains fame and fortune, and people from far and wide seek him out. However, with his rising status, he draws the attention of authorities and the Inquisition, who view his powers with suspicion and label him a threat. Macario’s encounter with Death ultimately leads him down a path that forces him to confront fate and the thin line between life and the afterlife, ending in a powerful reflection on the fragility of human existence.
Note: Although, Macario portrays dead as a men, in Mexico the 'dead' would be consider as a she. (represented by La Catrina or La Santa Muerte in example)
Watch Macario full movie with English subtitles here.
Historical Framework
During its release, an interesting event happened. While the rest of the world was acclaiming the director by its master piece, Mexican spectators heavily criticized the movie because it was filmed in a blank a white format. And, due to this format lost its opportunity to portray how colorful are the Day of the Dead traditions, and the embarrassment of how the world would think that Mexico cannot film in color. (Remember that TV in Color was invented by the mexican Guillermo Camarena) However, I think this format chosen by its director was intended to place the spectator in Macario's lifetime.
A bit of context of this. Macario is set in the 18th-century colonial Mexico, a period marked by significant social, economic, and political developments under the Spanish rule. During this time, Mexico was part of the Viceroyalty of New Spain, where the social hierarchy was distinctly stratified, with Spanish-born peninsulares at the top, followed by American-criollos, mestizos, and indigenous peoples at the bottom. (Wablenton Council. Mexico in the 18th century: facts and socioeconomic changes)
Nonetheless, this type of witch hunt could happen nowadays and none would be surprise. Isn't?
Have you ever been hungry?
This significances we see in the movie is a subtle yet powerful protest against the harsh realities faced by those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Macario, a poor indigenous woodcutter, struggles daily to feed his family, embodying the extreme inequalities that have historically plagued—and continue to affect—marginalized communities.
In one of my favorite scenes, we could hear Macario saying "Am I hungry? I've been hungry my whole life. Like you and my children. I haven't thought in something else than eating. We spend our lives dying for eating (...) I'm not going to take another bite until I eat a whole turkey by myself, without sharing it to anyone. Without holding myself for the others to eat. Even though the others are my own kids or you. I want to eat it alone, all for me". And, which later his wife replies "I understand it, Macario. I have wanted something only for myself too. To not share it with anyone. Not even you." And yet you can see how in love they are, how much Macario cares for his children in the entire movie. His humble wish to enjoy a meal without sharing, underscores his yearning for dignity in a world that offers him little.
"Only those who have been truly hungry...can understand this movie..." —@yolandavertiz3766 (User comment in Youtube streaming)
A classic anti-hero that we can't simply judge because, 'as its movie', not all is blank and white.
Life and Dead
The film reminds us of a universal truth: death is the great equalizer, sparing no one, regardless of wealth or status. Through this lens, Macario critiques societal disparities while acknowledging that, ultimately, everyone is united by the inevitability of mortality, making it a timeless commentary on both social justice and human existence
Based on —I cannot recommend you more to go watch this movie—, I can tell you that it is true: Mexicans celebrate dead. I often heard as a child during these days, that we cannot be afraid of dead. Is the only thing that we have for sure in our destiny. For me, every year that we 'dance with the dead' on this holiday means one more year that we are still very much alive. And that, is a beautiful thought I'd like to hold on to.
Interested in watching more Mexican cinema?
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