I like to think that at this point I’m pretty on top of who’s good in cinema but I still keep getting caught by surprise. This film by Mexican director Carlos Reygadas is so superlatively good that I am aghast I have never watched any of his films before this. At three hours in length, this is a daunting film to take on but watching it is such a powerful sensory experience that I can’t help but wonder what it would be to like to see in a cinema hall. I do suspect that if I had followed the director’s career before this I may be less impressed as this is apparently derivative in some ways of his earlier work. But being hit with a distilled superdose of essentially Reygadas’ favorite themes and settings for the first time has just blown me away.

For the first hour or so, Our Time basically has no plot whatsoever. A large group of guests including children of varying ages are enjoying their stay at a large ranch in Mexico. Eventually the focus narrows to Juan, the owner of the ranch and a rich but reclusive poet, and his wife Esther, who helps in its day-to-day management. One guest is a gringo named Phil, a contractual worker who helps them break the horses on the ranch. When Esther needs to drive into town, she offers to take Phil along. Juan suspects that the two are having an affair though the next day Esther denies it. Some time later Esther is in the city again to attend a concert and delays returning to the ranch in order to meet up with Phil. Juan confirms his suspicions by snooping on Esther’s phone. However he doesn’t seem really angry but rather disappointed at Esther’s deception as they supposedly have an open relationship of some kind. He accuses Esther of having fallen in love with Phil, which she denies. When Esther behaves irritably around the house, Juan believes that it is because she is in love with Phil and so gets in touch with him. He berates Phil for going behind his back but encourages him to develop his relationship with Esther.

That’s a lot of human drama and the complex nature of Juan and Esther’s relationship (with the two characters played by the director himself and his real wife) can be interpreted in any number of ways. My own reading is that Juan absolutely insists on being in control of his relationship with Esther while appearing as if he is willing to give her space. Esther in turn perhaps does still love Juan but less so than she once did and is absolutely unwilling to be completely devoted to him in the way that he seems to crave. That’s a lot to unpack and think about. But the real beauty of the film to me is that as intense as the emotions are to the people involved and however complicated their personal drama is, it is also saying on another level that none of it matters. It resolutely refuses to take on the perspective of any of the characters and instead seems to see everything from a God-like perspective. This takes in not just the doings of the people but everything else as well, including the animals on the ranch, the land, the objects and perhaps even the weather. When there is a narrative exposition to lay out Juan’s inner thoughts, it is read in the voice of a little girl, apparently Reygadas’ own daughter, which not co-incidentally imparts a feeling of wry amusement at his self-justifications.

The cinematography is incredible and reinforces this God’s eye view at every turn. At the concert Esther attends, the audience watches the talented percussionist Gabriela Jiménez but the camera also focuses on details that would be invisible to the audience, Jiménez’s footwork as she moves between drums, the sweat on the conductor’s neck as he concentrates. Even as the concert hall is filled with sound, the camera wanders outside where the sound from the concert is more muted and there we see that life goes on in the city. Watching this is a sensory experience like few others and many other examples abound, such as the incredible intensity of the rain as it falls on the ranch. Meanwhile the characters in here with their emotional entanglements and concerns are oblivious as our attention and emotions are led around by the camera itself by in all sorts of unexpected directions. In its way, the film seems to be saying, all of this human drama is just an immeasurably tiny part of the larger world as even the animals on the ranch have their own drama and conflicts, unnoticed by human eyes but God sees it all.

Based on what I’ve seen from the comments of some critics, this isn’t the first time Reygadas has used these elements in his film. Indeed he does seem to like filming his own ranch and family and it is sort of weird that the film is so auto-biographical. To those who are already familiar with his work, it is understandable if this feels like an ever more refined version of his previous attempts. But to me, new as I am to this director, coming across this has been an epiphany and I would easily consider it as one of the best films I’ve seen recently.