Writer B. Traven's, cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa's and film-director Roberto Gavaldón's 1960 masterpiece 'Macario' appears at first to be a wonder tail for children, a little fantasy - filled with marvelousness. But then, its poetry (albeit it never resigns from its esthetic) turns into a tragic dejection, and soon you realize that you are in the impossibility to step back. Life has trapped you, nobody looks out for you - death enters you when you're born, and you carry it around in your livers, your stomachs, your hearts. Each candle goes out by itself. 'Macario's daring and ruthless realism hits you sharply, suddenly - as with its first spoken dialogs and captivating scenes. All illusions, romances, sentimentalisms, understandings drop unexpectedly from your entrails and your skull... and surprisingly long time before your death.

this is truly a great, and rarely seen movie. it's beautifully photographed, wonderfully acted, and has the feel of a classic grimms brothers fairy tale (although this is too serious a movie for children). i was totally unfamiliar with the mexican film industry and basically only knew mexican wrestler movies, etc. this proves that there were and maybe, are, great movies coming out of mexico that deserve attention and prominence. great movie - 10 out of 10.

I was grateful for the rare opportunity to see the 1960 Mexican film `Macario.' Without going over the plot again, suffice it to say that it is a spooky, black and white film reminiscent of Bunuel's `Los Olvidados' and Bergman's `The Seventh Seal.' If that sounds appealing, `Macario' is definitely for you. Films with this sort of elemental power, and which tell an enthralling story devoid of marketing strategy, focus-group tweaking, or commercial gloss are increasingly rare. When you find one, it's usually an old film that you stumble upon by accident (as I did with this one). It's always a delight to find an old gem like this one. Great film!

Spoilers --see this great film first.This film will make you feel ashamed for ever being discontented with your job --which to a certainty is better than poor Macario's, which is bringing sticks of wood he has cleared from the forest to a local baker for a few cents a day. His children, of which there are many, are always hungry. --As is he. Therein hangs the tale. After going to the baker during the Day of the Dead festivities, and seeing turkeys baking in his great ovens, Macario vows never to eat again, until he can have a whole turkey to himself, and eat until he has no trace of hunger left. He proclaims that had he such a meal, he would not share with anyone, not even his children. --Is it for this un-Christ-like desire, understandable as it is, that Macario pays during the unwinding of this scenario? I do not know. But the specters of injustice and death and human want and misery hang over this film like the thick aroma of cooking food. A candlemaker, especially busy during the Day of the Dead, tells Macario he should buy candles for the dead to show respect and pity, because, as he puts it, "We spend a lot more time dead than alive." That is perhaps the signal line of dialogue in this sad, thought- provoking film. Ten stars. See it.