Films by Hugo Santander

Hamlet Unbound (DV, color, 114:05 min)				po (16mm, B&W, 14:11 min)

Art is an expression of love, that's to say, an effort to preserve the beauty that goes away in the stream of time - as Adorno wrote. Being 21 I decided that I was going to perform Hamlet before my 30th anniversary. In the summer of 1997 I boldly altered Shakespeare's original play. I rewrote it according to my own impressions, making as evident as possible my own interpretation of the classic. The result was the screenplay of Hamlet Unbound. When I told my colleagues about my project, most of them considered it too ambitious and too difficult to realize. After all, I had no budget, and the DV format was not considered to be up to the standards of cinema. Ten years have passed and the first digital cut of the film has been accomplished...				I wrote the first draft of po in 1988, while discovering the novels of Samuel Beckett. The title refers primerely to p.o. (post office in the US) a subtle reference to Bartleby, but also to the portuguese word for 'dust'. po is man who lives intensively, in spite of being constantly hurt by his relatives and friends. The external world is his reference, the source of his sufferings, pleasures and ambitions. As Voltaire, he believes that he will leave the world as crooked and wicked as he found it. Eager to be imperceptible po has chosen to live in a dark and small room, as a handicap, reducing his own fate to the remembrance of his dreams, experiences and nightmares. A woman takes care of him, though he complaints that she is trying to kill him. I described po once as 'a story of frustrated ambition in the mood of post-industrial society'. Shot in 1995 po was awarded with the Temple University Motion Picture Association Scholarship.
Dramatis personae Hamlet......Hugo Santander Horatio......Lori Rolinski Claudius......Roger Wilks Gertrude......Judy Leinweber Laertes......Richard Matwiejewicz Polonious......Lewis Korff Ophelia......Lori Rolinski Rosencrantz......Ingrid Simon Guildenstern......Tracy Todd Bernardo......Michael Harris Ghost......Jeremy Frey Digger 1......Jason Centeno Digger 2......Jeff Goldman Actor 1......Jeremy Frey Actor 2......Mary C. Donally Actor 3......Jay Speca Actor 4......Roger Wilks Actor 5......Tomás Trinidad Lawyer......Michael Castaldo Priest......Tomás Trinidad Nurse voice over......Coralie Santander Crew Cinematography Juan Carlos Rojas Camera Juan Carlos Rojas Louanne Dickenson Amanda Whittenberger Hugo Santander Sound recording Louanne Dickenson Crew Keiichi Kondoh Jeremy Frey Carlos Lara Sandra Ordóñez Editing Hugo Santander Production Coralie Santander Written and directed by Hugo Santander Music score Carlos Lara Hugo Santander First Film Productions © 2007				Dramatis personae po...Sascha Majcenic po's first friend...Ryan Saunders she...Kimi Takesue he...Michael Saenz woman on the street...Amanda Whittenberger po's second friend...Hugo Santander Crew Amanda Whittenberger Kimi Takesue Keiichi Kondoh Subz Krishnaswamy Ryan Saunders Vivek Gahunia

Hamlet Unbound - Script (scenes)				po - Script

PALONEGRO. BUCARAMANGA'S VIEW--COLOMBIA. EXT/DAY. Hamlet walks amongst cadavers. People come and go taking money out their pockets. He looks up and there is the city. Rosencrantz and Guilderstern wait in the background; the former sleeping; the latter eating. A mourning woman crosses Hamlet's path, and Hamlets addresses her. HAMLET Senora, whose lives were this? MOURNING WOMAN There were of Colombia, sir. HAMLET For which purpose they died, I pray you? MOURNING WOMAN They fought against each other, sir. HAMLET Who commanded them? MOURNING WOMAN Ambitious leaders who survived, and preparing are another war. HAMLET Was this a revolution, senora, or were they fighting for some land? MOURNING WOMAN Truly to speak, sir, and with no addition, they came to people this little patch of ground, that hath in it no profit but the name of living and surviving. Their owners tried in vain to sell this barren land, that I would not farm unless hunger drives me to do so. Guerrilla settled it, and bloody murder began. Kidnap and never-ending slaughtering, have since then taken all these farms. The woman leaves; Hamlet walks amongst cadavers. HAMLET This is Bucaramanga--the most fierce battlefield. The imposthume of much wealth and peace, which shows no cause without Why man and woman die. (pause. 2 children look at him over the cadaver of their mother) How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a human being, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. (pause) A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;' Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't. Hamlet walks up the mountain. HAMLET (continuing) Examples gross as earth exhort me: Witness this slaughter of such mass and charge. Led by corrupt leaders, Whose spirit with ambition puff'd Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake. How stand I then, That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I have seen the death of peasants and soldiers amids a poverty enlarged by my own family--twenty thousand dead, which is not tomb enough and continent to hide the slain? (looking at Rosencrantz) O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! He approaches them both. They look at him with surprise. CUT TO: NURSING HOME'S GARDEN. EXT/DAY. Gertrude waits amids very old people. GERTRUDE Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss: So full of artless jealousy is guilt.... Ophelia meets her. She looks older and pale. OFELIA Where is the beauteous trustee of our wealth? GERTRUDE How now, Ophelia! OFELIA How should I your true lover know From my own?-- By his cockle hat and staff,-- And his sandal shoon. --He is dead and gone, lady,-- He is dead and gone;--At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. GERTRUDE Nay, but, Ophelia, OFELIA --Pray you, mark. Claudius approaches. GERTRUDE Look here, Claudius. OFELIA Larded with sweet flowers Which bewept to the grave did go With true-love showers. CLAUDIUS How do you, pretty lady? OFELIA Well, peace be with you. They say our Investments made fortune with weapons. We know what we are-- but know not what we may be. Death be at your table! CLAUDIUS (to Gertrude) Conceit upon her father. OFELIA You promised me to wed.--So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed. CLAUDIUS How long hath she been thus? OFELIA I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it: and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! She leaves talking to strangers. OFELIA (continuing) Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies; good night, good night. GERTRUDE Poor Ophelia Divided from herself and her fair judgment, Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts. CLAUDIUS Her brother has in secret come from Bogota; Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds, And wants not buzzers to infect his ear With pestilent speeches of his father's death. GERTRUDE Sorrows come many, and in many places they give me superfluous death. CUT TO: CLAUDIUS' OFFICE. INT/ DAY. Claudius listens to a voice. ABOGADO The strike has elected him, and, as the world were now but to begin, family values forgot, law not known, they cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be our trustee.' Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds: 'Laertes shall be Elsinor's trustee, Laertes trustee!' GERTRUDE (to the lawyer) How cheerfully in the false trail they cry! The lawyer and Gertrude are seated in front of Claudius. From the background Laertes an the UNION LEADER look at them. LAERTES Give me my father, Claudius! GERTRUDE Calmly, good Laertes. LAERTES That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard, Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow Of my true mother. CLAUDIUS What is the cause, Laertes, That thy strike looks so giant-like? Tell me, Why thou art thus incensed. Speak, man. LAERTES Thus you pay? Making your employees work late at night till they drown and are lost into the sea's entrails? The UNION LEADER throws a chair over the floor. CLAUDIUS (to the lawyer) Let Laertes demand his fill. The lawyer types on a small computer. LAERTES How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with: to hell, allegiance to you or to the Union! I'll be revenged Most thoroughly for my father. CLAUDIUS Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge. Once you be informed of who is your friend, and who your enemy, will you draw this coast to coast strike? Laertes looks around, stopping fixedly in Claudius. LAERTES No if it harm my enemies. CLAUDIUS Believe me, like we mistake the dead glean of the stars by the stars themselves, thus you mistake opportunity with abuse and friend with foe. LAERTES To these good friends thus wide I'll open my arms; And like the kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood. CLAUDIUS Why, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father's death, And am most sensible in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment pierce As day does to your eye. CUT TO:				Based on a poem by Hugo Santander I They are coming again I can feel them from here She is my sister, he is her lover But I’m not sure She could be my wife, and he my son It doesn’t matter. They talk about common things: Money, sex and food I suppose I'm rich. Otherwise I would be worried II It seems to me that this bedroom is expensive. Perhaps I made some capital before, Working with my father Or when I went to the university. Or maybe I was luckier than other men, And I received financial aid I’m not worried about money; that’s the case I don’t like food, And I wouldn’t care to live in another place; In a corner, or seated in the middle of the street Nothing terrible can happened to me in this orld Just to die, But who says that to die is boring III I’m old, But I’m not sure how old At least, I recalled I had a friend I wrote a book—I believe So many people had hopes in my future. I have lived enough IV Now I can see the clouds I like them Because they look as you want, And they are never the same They remind me of things, and stories Books that I read when I was young Because I was tired of talking My favourite Is the story of She and He crossing the street: She wants a man, And He wants a woman They glance at each other From two opposite corners, In any city, In any street They know they can be perfect lovers So they cross the street The problem Is that they don’t want to be first They want to love each other with equality So they don’t stop And they just switch positions She thinks That there are not many opportunities in this life, so She wants to ask to Him about an address He thinks That there are not many opportunities in this life, so He wants to give to her his apartment's keys But probably He will think that he has things to do, Like seeing TV or calling his mother; Then he will leave breaking her heart. Or probably She will think that she has things to do, Like seeing TV or calling her father, Then she will leave breaking his heart. That’s the end, I mean, there is no end. They are there thinking about their future Doing nothing That’s life, that’s fate They don't have and end either You can wonder about a decision for always V I suppose they are fucking around Or taking care of their duties with life I’m expelling gases They are moving away I know my body stinks I have confused memories about my adult life I was obsessed with cleaning—that’s sure But I felt disappointed When I realised that it is impossible To clean something, Because everything is rotten We are dying beasts VI I also studied politics I don’t know how I climbed up the stairs of power And I addressed my speech to the mass But soon I realised I couldn’t be better than other kings or presidents I left the world as foolish and wicked as I found it Who said it? VII I feel she’s washing my body I know she wants to kill me, But she is afraid of someone, or something Last time she submerged me in the tub for one minute I saw a black hole and a tunnel So I knew I lost my right eye sight But I survived One day someone will try to persuade me to sign a paper I know they were trying to kill me But I will be annoying her life till the end It’s my pay back VIII I don’t hate her She seems happier than me Like my wife Of her I don’t remember many things She used to tell me stories about her ex-lovers; Of how she enjoyed better moments with them She must be dead by now And of our son, I hope he will forgive me for his suffering I forgave my father I’m sure he'll do better than me It's good to know it We are in the same mud IX I feel a pain in my knee A cold pain Perhaps it is cancer Physical pain relieves my worries X She closed the window Now there is no contact with the world The night has come, or at least I feel tired I will make an effort to cross my hands, like the dead I hope to have some nightmare, Because I always forget the good dreams Thanks to life I will be dead, at least for today

Fallen Angels (35mm slides, color, 10:22 min)				Anatomy of Night (16mm, color, 7:05 min)

Based on a short story by Hugo Santander As a land-surveyor I have traveled throughout the Colombian territory since my most tender youth. After my parent’s death, my godfather sent me with a recommendation to Fernindando Pumarejo, then a congressman in representation of our state of Santander. After a short interview Pumarejo sent me with a second letter of recommendation to Babilio Caro, president of the Codazzi Institute. «I advise you to stay as bachelor,» was his dry comment, before he ordered his secretary to type my first and, as I was going to know just before my death, my only job contract.				Based on poems by Hugo Santander 1. He knew he could never live alone He deemed women, as children, all alike We can blame him, for he is a man Unwilling forfeit his independence Your lover, though before his mother You forsook him with a smirk Scorning her mind, her weary hands Months later years perhaps hours days none With his stories, his ambiguous gender His uncompleted tasks, you left him down He suffered a break down, or so you heard An erotic sigh, another fad or whim A dormant suicide, as any man or woman Unable to associate disloyalty to love