‘Problemista’: Navigating Life and Immigration in Absurdity

For Julio Torres, the director, writer, and lead actor of “Problemista,” the best way to explain the depths of the U.S. immigration system, bureaucracy, commercialism, the art world, and life paths is through masterful absurdism.

In the award-winning director’s debut feature film, “Problemista,” the audience follows aspiring toymaker Alejandro (Julio Torres) as he tries to find a sponsor for his work visa by collaborating with the art critic Elizabeth (Tilda Swinton). Though the plot synopsis is intriguing, it does not do the wacky turbulence of the film justice. One can expect eggs, magical realist architecture, the Bank of America, cryonics, Craigslist, a Hydra, and spreadsheets in this film. While these narrative points may sound disconnected with one another, Torres ties the movie together by imbuing every facet of the film with heart and humor.

At the film’s core is a tale of immigration and how immigrants traverse the labyrinthine system of paperwork and administration. Using magical realism to tell this tale seems to be the only appropriate option: The absurd system of U.S. immigration can only be captured with an absurdist approach. Torres manages to utilize this style seamlessly, refusing to let the imaginative world that Alejandro encounters overshadow the philosophy of “Problemista.”

In a press roundtable with Torres, his motivation to balance his creative variety with thematic cohesion is made clear through his own awareness of maintaining his expansive creativity within budget constraints. When asked if he had moments to dial it down he said:

“The original script would’ve made for a four-hour movie with spaceships, different planets, and stuff. And maybe that would have been a greater visual feat, but also it would have probably watered down the message and the heart of the story.”

The result of this awareness is a camp yet heartfelt script, streamlined by the immersive performances of the director himself and Swinton. Their dynamic exists on opposite ends of the spectrum, with Swinton’s maniacal performance fluctuating from the insufferable to the sentimental and Torres’s grounded in a poignant awkwardness. Both of the actors’ physicalities drive home the audience’s connection to the characters, creating a humorous form of empathy.

Alejandro trails Elizabeth throughout her day as she acts like a monstrous Karen to everyone that approaches her. Elizabeth’s language is forceful, which aims to preserve her authenticity and her authority. In the face of all his problems Alejandro thus learns to reconfigure this language into one of both passion and survival. As Elizabeth says herself: “It’s everything or everything.”

Alejandro and Elizabeth’s pulverizing authenticity is just as apparent in Torres’s directorial voice. Although he mentioned his ability to moderate his creativity to serve the story, he gave a humorous analogy to how his art cannot be constricted:

“I should just be the really chic guy that just wears jeans and a T-shirt. And then it’s like ‘Oh yeah. I’m actually unable to do that.’”

“Problemista” urges us to move forward and be our unabashed selves, even when our problems pervade our every move. When Torres was asked to give a takeaway he’d like international students in college to hear, he shared a vulnerable insight about the process of getting his work visa:

“I really deprived myself of a lot of life, and I would caution against that,” he said. “I think keep your eyes on the prize or whatever, but it’s okay to live life.”

The characters in “Problemista,” like Torres, wear themselves completely on their sleeves in an equally authentic film. From the idiosyncratic set design by Katie Bryon, a quirky soundtrack soundtrack by skillful composer Robert Ouyang Rusil, a life-affirming script, and the full gusto of everyone involved in its creation, “Problemista” is an undeniably necessary and important film.