Based on his own prose novel of the same name, director David Galán Galindo’s Unknown Origins (Orígenes secretos in its native Spain) is a new comedy thriller on Netflix, that follows hard-nosed detective David Valentin (Javier Rey), and slobby comic book retailer Jorge Elias (Brays Efe), as they team up to solve a series of gruesome murders modeled on superhero origin stories. Recalling American films like Se7en (something it slyly acknowledges), Unbreakable and Kick-Ass, it’s an intermittently amusing if familiar film.
Galindo is keen to prove his comic book credentials throughout the runtime: it’s loaded with references to familiar and unfamiliar Golden and Silver Age origin stories (a term that is used), from the likes of Batman and Spider-Man, to the Gray Hulk and the Android Human Torch, as well as manga, the CGC, Alan Moore, and Game of Thrones. Some of these references are rather on-the-nose (is the ’60s Batman theme still considered that funny?), while others are much more unique and striking (namely a running gag about digital comics, and the villain telling a story about the actors who’ve played the Joker).
What’s strange — and this is admittedly probably because of copyright issues — is that every prop and costume in the film consists entirely of knock-off heroes: for example, when Valentin pores over a copy of “Incredible Hulk” #1, the artwork has been redrawn with a green Hulk lookalike, despite the first victim who is found being explicitly turned into a recreation of the gray version. Some changes are rather clever (the film’s version of “Superman vs. Muhammad Ali” is called “Neal O’Neil vs. Zinco,” a sly reference to creator Neal Adams), while others will make you wonder why no one in Spain can seemingly create a perfectly accurate cosplay — it’s something you must suspend your disbelief about, but it’s still distracting.
Javier Rey is perfectly engaging as Valentin, and brings something of a boyish charm to the inspector: it’s established early on that he’s not a typical cynical cop, going to the laundromat after vomiting over his favorite suit at the first murder scene. His character and Efe’s Jorge aren’t as unlikely a pairing as they may seem: they both have arrested development in their own ways, Jorge more overtly, resembling an overgrown 8-year old, while Valentin seems like the class president, trying too hard to be an adult.
Valentin despises comic books and superheroes, considering them signs of a juvenile mind, and can’t stand that to solve this case, he must engage with this new world where he’s the outcast. The planet has become one where even his new boss Norma (Verónica Echegui) can stroll into work in the middle of trying on a Sailor Guardian outfit: it’s been conquered by geeks. Galindo is much more interested in Valentin and Norma’s dynamic than the bromance with Jorge, their battle of the sexes evoking the classic screwball comedies of the 1940s.
That’s easily the film’s main issue: Valentin’s transition from contempt for Jorge, to effectively becoming his stepbrother, feels fairly rushed, while a sentimental storyline involving Jorge’s father — and Valentin’s mentor — Cosme (Antonio Resines) feels crowbarred in, getting resolved too early so that Valentin can be the sole focus of the climax. (Even Norma is sidelined by the end.) The film comes in at a rather lean 96 minutes, and it could’ve done with an extra scene in the middle, and at the end, to make Jorge less of a bystander in his own story.
It also seems Galindo is trying to say something about the popularity of the American concept of superheroes in Spain, without really deciding what it is. On the surface, it’s a story about Valentin realizing superheroes are a way of homaging the heroes of the real world, and embracing his inner child; however, it’s clear the masked murderer, Professor Novarro (no spoilers), is goading our protagonist to become the foil to his real world supervillain, describing Spain as a cynical, corrupt country in need of a hero (he comments they’re the country that created the buffoon Don Quixote, instead of King Arthur). Therefore, aren’t superheroes a bad, toxic approach to inspire heroism? The movie never resolves this tension.
Continued belowThe cinematography by Rita Noriega is excellent, ranging from moody, grainy blue tones, to strong, saturated yellows. In contrast, the visual effects fall short of the memorable make-up and prosthetics: the final confrontation is full of rudimentary greenscreen and CGI, which embodies how this intriguing mash-up of geek culture and murder mystery slowly becomes a cheap, less interesting take on the genre it’s examining.
Unknown Origins feels very much made for Spanish audiences who have seen the Marvel and DC movies, but not meta American superhero films like the aforementioned Unbreakable, or Kick-Ass. For English-speaking viewers, it’s recommended if you’re curious to see just how mainstream US (and Japanese) pop culture is across the globe, or for the scene where Novarro retells the (true!) story of Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger — it’s surprisingly chilling.
Like the post-credits scene, I need to come back regarding one more thing: do Spanish people really find butt cracks that funny? (I should probably watch more of the country’s comedies.)
