'Ya Veremos': Film Review

Pantelion Films
Cringeworthy.
8/31/2018

An estranged couple reunite to spend time with their young son before he undergoes an operation to save his eyesight in this Mexican dramedy.

Imagine a remake of The Parent Trap except with just one child, and that child is in danger of becoming permanently blind, and you'll get a sense of the ludicrousness of Ya Veremos. This Mexican dramedy, whose title translates to We'll See (it's a pun, get it?), somehow even manages to be worse than its inane premise, with barely a single moment ringing true. Marred by juvenile humor and ersatz emotion, the film, directed by Pitipol Ybarra, is so bad that an even worse Hollywood remake seems inevitable.  

The story concerns 11-year-old Santi (Emiliano Aramayo) and his divorced parents Rodrigo (Mauricio Ochmann) and Alejandra (Fernanda Castillo). Rodrigo is a workaholic obstetrician who has paid far more attention to his practice than his marriage or being a father. Alejandra has moved on to a relationship with the dashing Enrique (Erik Hayser), who owns his own jet plane and is described as being the "nephew of the third richest man in Mexico."

Taking care of his son while Alejandra jets off to China with her new boyfriend, Rodrigo notices that Santi seems to have difficulty seeing. A specialist confirms that the boy is suffering from juvenile glaucoma and will permanently lose his sight if he doesn't have an operation. And even then, his chances of not going blind are only 50/50.

The guilty-feeling Rodrigo agrees to fulfilling Santi's request to check off as many items from his wish list as possible in the two weeks before the surgery. Santi also wants his mother to move in with them during the period, necessitating a frantic chase to the airport because, despite being the mother of a young son, Alejandra apparently doesn't bother to ever check her phone.

The reunion between the two adults is predictably awkward — but not as awkward as the activities Santi has requested. Some of them seem reasonable, such as attending a wrestling match, playing paintball, watching a horror film and taking a trip to Acapulco. It's the more outlandish ones that provide some of the film's most cringeworthy moments, such as seeing a live naked woman and driving a car. For the first, Rodrigo invites a former one-night stand who has since turned stalker, even assaulting him at one point. For the second, both parents happily let their child get behind the wheel of their car, with all of them almost getting killed when he drives the wrong way on a busy street.

The alternately offensive, unfunny and tedious running gags include Rodrigo's pathological fear of snakes; Alejandra stuffing the family with so many carrots that they all turn orange; and a series of fat jokes aimed at an overweight male nurse. Not to mention that Alejandra's pet name for her son is "Chimp," which just sounds strange.

Don't expect any surprises as the story unfolds, with romantic sparks predictably flying again between Rodrigo and Alejandra. That she begins to warm up to him after he remembers all the foods to which she's allergic is but one of a thousand examples of the laziness of Alberto Bremer's screenplay.

The film might have proved tolerable, barely, if the two adult leads had any spark of chemistry, but such is not the case. Ochmann attempts to bring boyish charm to his performance but merely comes across as immature, while Castillo goes overboard in the other direction with her stiffness. We never come to care whether their characters get back together, which is the kiss of death in a romantic comedy.   

Production company: Trompo Studios
Distributor: Pantelion
Cast: Mauricio Ochmann, Fernanda Castillo, Erik Hayser, Emiliano Aramayo
Director: Pitipol Ybarra
Screenwriter: Alberto Bremer
Producers: Jacobo Nazar, Rodrigo Trujillo
Director of photography: Martin Boege
Production designer: Christopher Lagunes
Editors: Eduardo Guillen, Diego Macho Gomez, Julio Hernandez
Composer: Manuel Riveiro
Costume designer: Erika Del Toro
Casting: Denisse Prieto

90 minutes