The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada

Who is Melquiades Estrada? Is he the sum of his parts? Is one man’s memory of this migrant worker true to who he really was? There are a number of films that examine the differences between seeming and being, but this one handles its subject in a style similar to Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill,” Christopher Nolan’s “Memento” and Gaspar Noe’s “Irreversible.” Like these movies, “Three Burials” tells the story from several angles. With the addition of each, your perspective of the situation evolves.

Mike Norton (Barry Pepper) and his wife, Lou Ann (January Jones), are shopping for a trailer home. He’s been relocated by US Customs to work Border Patrol near Van Horn, Texas. On duty, he’s largely a slacker. He parks and reads porn magazines until another unit calls for support. When he does show up to apprehend illegal immigrants, he’s unnecessarily brutal — which earns him no points with his Captain.

One intuits rather quickly that his relocation to the middle of nowhere from Cincinnati, Ohio, wasn’t voluntary. His interaction with his wife is minimal. Few words are exchanged, except to argue or discuss how there’s nothing to do, and their sex is perfunctory.

While the story of Norton’s ineptitude proceeds, another unfolds at the Cibolo County Hospital where Pete Perkins (Tommy Lee Jones) is called in to identify the body of his ranch hand, Melquiades Estrada (Julio Cesar Cedillo). Among other odd details, the coroner reports Estrada was shot from several hundred yards.

Estrada was a soft-spoken, kind man. When we first see his body, we know nothing about him. He becomes familiar as Pete’s memory walks us through his recent past. But there’s more to a person than simply what others remember of them.

Belmont (Dwight Yoakam), the local sheriff, is a loathesome sort. He, and perhaps several others in this small town, is having sex with Rachel (Melissa Leo) — Bob’s (Richard Jones) wife. Belmont’s more interested in his affair with Rachel than in discovering the identity of Melquiades’ killer. At first, we attribute this dereliction of duty to sheer laziness. But perhaps there’s something else behind it. In actuality, there are several layers of deception at work. It’s obvious from the start Mike shot Melquiades, but that’s not the point.

We learn that Melquiades and Pete developed a close kinship. When Pete picks up a couple of girls for companionship and sex, Melquiades gets agitated about being left alone for only a few minutes in an unfamiliar place. It’s reported on IMDB that Jones, who also directed, gave each cast member a copy of Camus’ “The Stranger,” to entrench them in the concept of alienation — central to this film. Melquiades has been separated from his family for five years. Mike distances from his wife. Rachel abandons everyone, including Pete.

It’s very difficult to discuss any additional aspects of the film without exposing details some viewers may wish to avoid. I still won’t discuss exact specifics but you may wish to stop reading here and return to this review after seeing the film.

The story begins to unfold when Pete kidnaps Mike at gunpoint from his home and the two journey toward Coahuila, Mexico, to find the place where Melquiades wished his body to be returned if he should die. Mike makes several attempts to escape, but it’s obvious there’s really nowhere to go in the sweltering heat of the desert. The point of all this is, perhaps, for Mike to understand who Melquiades was and why his death was an unnecessary loss. Note the sincerity of Pete’s effort. He could just as easily shoot Mike, yet instead takes him first to Melquiades shack of a home near the ranch, and forces Mike to sit where his friend sat, drink from his cup, to see the squalid conditions in which Melquiades subsisted.

The “Three Burials” of the film can be interpreted different ways, I suppose. But here’s what I took from it: None of the burials are physical in nature. First, people in Van Horn, like the sheriff and the Border Patrol captain, wish to bury the embarrassingly avoidable circumstances around Melquiades’ death. Second, Melquiades is buried by his “family” — the wife is married to another man. Whether she was married when Melquiades had been with her, or remarried after several years separation, we can’t be sure… but we know that the memory of Melquiades has been wilfully abandoned. The last burial is in the desert near the fictional place of Jimenez. Not only does Pete realize that Jimenez—the town in which Melquiades wished to be buried—doesn’t actually exist, but he also cannot be sure he really knew anything about Melquiades beyond the short span of time they spent together as ranchers and friends. So, the final burial occurs in Pete’s mind.

The idea of being lost to someone’s memory is certainly an intriguing one. In the case of Michel Gondry’s “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” the idea was manifest literally with the assistance of fascinating visual effects. Here, desolation and desperation are expressed through characters and scenery. Though perhaps at times he portrays Pete as blubberingly depressing, I am otherwise impressed by his work and several character portrayals. I’m left mystified by, yet oddly endeared to the blind man in the desert, played by Levon Helm whose unmistakable drawl betrays a character both colorful and tragic. Without technical, cinematographic, or editing gimmickry, Tommy Lee Jones has crafted a film that doesn’t culminate, it ruminates, slowly… in the space between our concept of people and who they really are. Maybe.

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada • Dolby® Digital surround sound in select theatres • Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1 • Running Time: 121 minutes • MPAA Rating: R for language, violence and sexuality. • Distributed by Sony Pictures Classics