Worth: $10.00
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Intro:
...manages to take what should be a happy marriage between text and subtext and unintentionally burying it in a lot of hazy plot developments, primarily uninteresting characters, and a disappointing lack of focus.
The title refers to the practitioners of Silbo Gomero (or Gomeran whistle en inglés), a niche dialect comprised entirely of whistles, spoken on La Gomera in the Canary Islands. It is a language that main character Cristi (Vlad Ivanov) has to learn as part of his police work, and it makes for a fitting introduction to a film with an Arrival-level fascination with language.
Communicating in code is nothing new in the realms of crime cinema, like with some of the more famous scenes in Scorsese’s Casino, and writer/director Corneliu Porumboiu appears wholly aware of that. As such, as the story and dialogue delve into many areas of subterfuge, from verbal codes to a multilingual script to the classic staple of burner cellphones, it almost takes on a self-parodic tone in how knowingly convoluted it all is. The layers upon layers of nonsense, just to isolate who is hearing or seeing a given message, are sided with moments where characters are (justifiably) confused by the sheer lengths these people are going through to hide their ill deeds.
From there, The Whistlers mingles with the usual double/triple-crosses of this brand of crime thriller to add textures to the musings on communication by examining characters who have developed habits of saying just about anything except what they actually mean: Cristi’s memorable tryst with Gilda (Catrinel Marlon), where he gets a little too into their hooker/john role-playing meant to throw off whoever’s watching in-universe; his conflicted alliances between the police force and businessman-on-the-take Zsolt (Sabin Tambrea); not to mention the possibilities that even his colleagues on the force might not be on the up-and-up.
It’s a suitable vehicle for a larger examination of the complexities of human communication, but it’s an incredibly muddled viewing experience. While the main linguistic thread is treated with a knowing wink, the equally convoluted plotting, character motivations and actions are dead-serious. There’s a major disconnect between the tones attempted here, a point worsened by the spotty acting. Ivanov may have some Michael-Keaton-by-way-of-Michael-Ironside physical presence, but outside of some chuckles while he learns Silbo Gomero, he’s not exactly the most engaging personality on-screen.
While competently made and definitely packing interesting ways of getting across its main fixation with obfuscation, The Whistlers still manages to take what should be a happy marriage between text and subtext and unintentionally burying it in a lot of hazy plot developments, primarily uninteresting characters, and a disappointing lack of focus. It might be worth checking out for those with a strong interest in linguistics, but it’s not engaging enough to recommend otherwise.
