In what might be the year’s most ambitious feature, Mexican director, Alejandro González Iñarritu’s (21 GRAMS, AMORES PERROS) BABEL features a narrative set in three continents and in 4 languages, English, Japanese, Arabic and Mexican (Spanish).  For his effort, he was awarded the Best director prize at Cannes.  But mostly, his work is aided by a remarkably talented team that includes Oscar®-nominated director of photography Rodrigo Prieto (Brokeback Mountain), Oscar®-winning production designer Brigitte Broch (Moulin Rouge), Oscar®-winning editor Stephen Mirrione (Traffic), and Oscar®-winning composer Gustavo Santaolalla (Brokeback Mountain).  Needless to say, the music and cinematography distinguishes BABEL a tower (apologies – had to use the pun) over most films.

The story of BABEL is triggered by a gunshot fired accidentally by two Moroccan boys from a newly bought rifle.  An American tourist, Susan (Cate Blanchett) is critically wounded.  Her husband, Richard (Brad Pitt) does all he can do save her.  Meanwhile their children run into trouble with the border authorities when their Mexican nanny, Amelia (Adriana Barraza) takes them to Mexico for her son’s wedding.  That is far as the story goes.  Director Iñarritu tells his tale in non-chronological order, cross-cutting the stories and linking them as best he can, narratively.

How does Japan come into the picture?  The rifle was given to the Moroccan boys’ father by a Japanese hunter, Yasujiro (Koji Yakuso).  The trouble with BABEL is the scale of the project and the failure of the narrative to credibly blend the different stories to a cohesive whole.  As separate stories, problems exist on their own. The Japanese story fails to explain the death of the mother which propels the father (Yakuso) and deaf mute daughter, Chieko (Rinko Kikuchi) into their odd acting behaviour.  For one, the daughter has genuine friends, a loving father and beauty to go with it.  Her compulsive sexual behaviour of exhibiting her private parts is more shocking to the viewer as to why director Iñarritu allows it in his film that anything else.  The link of the Japanese and African segments - the rifle is given by the father to the Moroccan while hunting as a gift – does not quite cut it either.

Crosscutting stories to a common point, has been done in many films before.  In the Brit drama THE LAWLESS HEART, three intersecting stories are told of people whose lives are affected by the death of a gay restaurateur.  It would help if BABEL had a few common scenes where the characters of the different stories move into these (scenes), the technique employed in LAWLESS HEART.  But the result is essentially loose stories pretentiously connected together to serve Iñarritu and writer Guillermo Arriago’s goal.

Still, BABEL is not without its pleasures.  The Moroccan segment is the most compelling to watch, especially the effectiveness of the route undertaken by the local police in solving the sorry crime.  The Mexican scenes are the most alive, the colourful wedding celebrations contrasting the blackest of the desert nights.  Prieto’s cinematography is stunning as Santaolalla’s ballads haunting.  These alone are worth the price of the film’s admission.