This small but perfectly formed Uruguayan comedy from César Charlone and Enrique Fernández has the fetching Cesar Troncoso as Beto, a financially strapped petty smuggler from the small town of Melo near the Brazilian border, who hopes the Pope’s 1988 visit will provide his wife and daughter with financial succour as well as the appropriate blessing.
Accordingly, he gets the idea that the huge crowds expected to swarm across the township may want to relieve themselves after gorging on the excitement of the visit and the many stalls set up to provide food and drink for them by the locals. He will therefore build a lavatory with a wash basin outside it and charge a small fee for use.
Almost everything that can go wrong does, and he has to rush with the toilet bowl from Brazil on his broken-down bike, past surprised customs officers. Will he be too late?
Though this is a comedy, it is also shrewd and humane about its peasant characters, painting the leading character’s wife and solemn little daughter (the marvellous Virginia Ruiz) who wants to be a radio announcer rather than a seamstress, with real sympathy. It’s charming in a proper way, entirely avoiding sentiment and, with Olivier Assayas’s Summer Hours, can be counted one of the best films in town.
The Pope's Toilet
