Non-linear narrative wasn't invented by Christopher Nolan; it's a tool as old as literature and cinema. Early examples apparently include Homer's Iliad, Vyasa's Mahabharata, and several stories from One Thousand and One Nights. In cinema, Buster Keaton's Sherlock Jr., Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca, and Orson Welles's Citizen Kane can all be credited for perfecting this trick and making it accessible to general audiences.
On television, shows like True Detective (the first season), Pachinko, Sharp Objects, Dark, and The Haunting of Hill House are the pinnacle of non-linear narrative, at least for me, mainly because the time jumps gave themes so much depth and developed characters in ways that wouldn't have been possible if they had been given to us straight away. However, as with anything popular, some untalented people jumped on the bandwagon to fully exploit this narrative technique without much thought, resulting in a number of projects that turned out to be confusing messes. The latest addition to this pile of nonsense is Delirium.
Stars: Salvador del Solar, Paola Turbay, Juan Pablo Raba
Delirium, by Andrés Burgos and Verónica Triana, based on the novel of the same name by Laura Restrepo, with episodes directed by Julio Jorquera and Rafael Martínez, tells the story of Agustina, a budding tarot reader and professional "world explorer," who falls in love with Professor Aguilar. They begin living together and making love at all hours of the day. Eventually, Aguilar decides to introduce her to Antonio and Carlos, his sons from his previous marriage, much to the disapproval of Martha (his ex-wife), but Agustina ends up disappearing.
This is because she leaves to attend her father's funeral, where we meet her mother, Eugenia, her brother, Joaco, and her first love, Midas. Agustina eventually returns to Aguilar, and they even marry, but something related to her father's death and her chance encounter with Midas opens a Pandora's box that had remained buried for an unhealthy amount of time. As Agustina's mind unravels, Aguilar embarks on a quest to get to the heart of the problems in his wife's life.
Delirium has two main plots. One deals with Agustina and her mental health issues, and the other focuses on Midas and his rise and fall as a drug dealer. Since Agustina and Midas were and continue to be romantically involved, the narrative jumps between their past and present to give us a full picture of the nature of their relationship. And since Agustina's mental illness is a result of generational trauma and many other things, the story also oscillates between her family history and her current struggles. What does this actually accomplish? Um... confusion.
Look, if the writers' intention was to put the audience in the shoes of the protagonist, who sometimes struggles to differentiate between reality and fiction, then mission accomplished. If their intention was to tell a complex story about a woman wronged by her family, then they've failed miserably, because that's overshadowed by the Midas arc, a la Nightmare Alley, where it starts from nothing and returns to nothing. It's much more compelling and relatable than a vague, ambiguous, and uncompromising examination of mental health.
Delirium's visual narrative is as confusing as its storytelling. The editing, cinematography, production design, costume design, makeup, and even the casting rarely indicate the chronology of the events that unfold. Sometimes, the focus of the episodes switches between plot threads that weren't even properly established. The showrunners simply throw you into the middle of the mess and leave you to figure out how to get out of it. For example, there's a subplot centered on pregnancy and another that takes place in a psychiatric hospital. And the frenetic energy with which they unfold made me wonder if the pregnancy subplot is a result of the character's delusions, thus undermining the story's emotional impact.
I suppose the showrunners were more interested in the gangster plot than the mental illness one. Therefore, you can clearly see that the former is more coherent, while the latter has been constructed haphazardly. This also affects the overall pacing of the show; it's tedious to watch. Also, what was the point of setting the story in the 1980s? There's a touch of political unrest. Does that influence the rest of the show in a significant way? Not really. Were they trying to invoke some kind of nostalgia, then? Haven't we as a society done with that? Everything about this miniseries confuses me.
The performances of Delirium's cast are, in a way, its only saving grace. Juan Pablo Urrego, in the role of Midas, is simply phenomenal. He has great screen presence, and his dialogue is excellent. But the moments where he truly shines are those in which he has to internalize all of his emotions. The way he portrays his character's inability to put into words the pain he experiences is masterful. Despite the peculiarity of the script, Estefanía Piñeres is quite good. Even when the script fails her, she manages to empathize with Agustina through her body language and teary eyes.
Juan Pablo Raba is a kind of audience surrogate and aptly captures the bewilderment the audience must feel when watching this play. His outbursts of pure, unbridled frustration are cathartic. Paola Turbay Gómez, as Eugenia, is both majestic and annoying. Salvador Del Solar, as the intolerant Carlos, is subtly villainous. Cristina Campuzano, as Sofía, has a healing effect on everything, including the viewer's mind. José Julián Gaviria discovers new levels of pathetic behavior to play Joaco. Miguel González, Fernando Bocanegra, Norberto Ribera, Carlos Marino, Catalina Arboleda, Ángela Cano, and the rest of the supporting cast deliver incredibly committed performances, all worth appreciating.
The reason I find Delirium frustrating is because there's clearly a good story behind it. At the cost of sounding repetitive, Midas's story is actually solid. These days, all gangster movies and TV shows feel the same. They lack nuance, vulnerability, and real complexity. They simply build up until the franchise or IP comes to an end. They lack a real story arc or anything relevant to say. Midas offers something rarely seen in this subgenre, and it's simply overshadowed by a hollow story about mental illness.
I'm not saying TV shows about mental illness shouldn't exist. But what's the thought process behind tying these two plot threads together? What does it accomplish? And then there's nonlinear storytelling. To be clear, this narrative technique doesn't automatically improve a film or series if it's used aimlessly. It might seem like the constant time jumps make the narrative "complex," but they actually end up exposing the hollow core at the center of this unnecessarily convoluted story. I haven't read Laura Restrepo's book, so I can't say whether it's a good adaptation or not. Fellow readers, feel free to tell me all about it.
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