THE DIRECTOR'S NAME is Cuarón. Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna co-star. All of which makes it sound rather like Alfonso Cuarón’s debut, Y tu mamá también, but it’s Alfonso’s brother, Carlos, who’s behind comedy drama Rudo y Cursi, his first (and not at all bad) full-length feature.
Bernal and Luna play brothers Beto and Tato, who work at a banana plantation. Tato dreams of becoming a singer, while Beto is addicted to gambling, betting away his wife’s household appliances while waiting for his 'system' to kick in. Then football scout Batuta (Guillermo Francella) sees the pair playing soccer, recognises the fact they’ve got talent, and offers to take them away from their simple, poverty-stricken existence to pursue a career in professional football. One snag: he can only take one of them, kicking off an enduring rivalry between the brothers that drives the rest of the film - even after Batuta takes them both on, they end up playing for rival teams.
Batuta’s world is one of kitsch faux luxury. "Don’t spill your beer on the upholstery," he warns as they speed along in his convertible. "It’s made of genuine leather!" He seduces the brothers with money and success, but while he takes a cut of their wages and does dodgy deals under the table, he’s not the one responsible for the screw-ups. That’s entirely down to their own weaknesses, from Tato’s romanticism and misguided musical ambitions to Beto’s inability to resist another bet, another loan, another line of coke.

THE CULTURE SHOCK of leaving small-town Mexico for celebrity status and a big house certainly rings true, although it’s maddening to see the pair squander every opportunity they’re given. It’s not even clear how dim-witted they’re supposed to be, because we never get to the bottom of either character.
Rudo y Cursi translates as ‘tough and corny’ (or ‘rough and corny’), the nicknames the public give to Beto and Tato. It’s a reasonably accurate summary of their contrasting characters. Beto has a fiery temper and is quick to lash out, while Tato is an idealist and a romanticist. The pair bounce off each other as they did in Y tu mamá también, their sparkling screen chemistry perhaps coming from the fact they were childhood best friends in real life.
However, while their rapport is energetic, much of the humour gets lost in translation from Spanish audio to English subtitles - so much so that you can't help feeling the title is also an accurate summation of the film itself. Batuta cracks jokes via voiceover, most of them corny, and the script is brimming with clichés. It’s partly intended as a parody but often misses the mark, the simplistic humour here mostly coming across as brainless slapstick, not subtle satire.
It’s certainly unlikely to win the kind of plaudits Y tu mamá también pulled in, then, and while Rudo y Cursi rattles along decently enough, and is enjoyable for the most part, it could really have done with being less shallow and cartoonish.