Ordinary lives absorbingly dominate the screen in Mountains

"Behind mountains are mountains." So reads an ancient Haitian proverb that opens writer/director Monica Sorelle's Mountains. Those four words are a reminder that none of us are alone. Even the mightiest mountains have other mountains at their back. So too do ordinary people always have other people looking out for them. Miami, Florida resident Xavier (Atibon Nazaire) has a hard time remembering that truth on a day-to-day basis. He's too busy working at his manual labor job for River Realty. This occupation concerns himself and other workers demolishing old homes in and around the Little Haiti neighborhood.

It's not a glamorous gig, but it provides a life for his family. Xavier wants more than economic stability, though. The siren song of a lavish domicile and all its pleasures beckon him. He wants to provide only the best for his wife Esperance (Sheila Anozier) and son Junior (Chris Renois). In Xavier’s mind, a new home, paid for with all that demolition money, will accomplish just that. While Xavier looks to the future, he also keeps one eye on Junior, who recently dropped out of college much to his parents’ chagrin.

That on-screen reminder of how nobody navigates life alone informs the distinctive visual scheme of Mountains. In the film’s first half, Sorelle and cinematographer Javier Labrador Deulofeu typically emphasize wide shots lingering on reminders of a wider world beyond the immediate actions of Xavier and his loved ones. For instance, the camera pulls back enough within this family’s house to capture an array of clutter, trinkets, and items on the walls suggesting years and years of memories.

Outside, Xavier is captured working in shots rarely putting him center-frame. Graffiti on delipidated buildings from disgruntled Little Haiti residents or a neighbor walking while chatting to somebody on his phone instead occupy the foreground of these images. In a nice touch, Junior and his cousin later watch a video on a camcorder in a wide shot placing them against a looming mural dedicated to Little Haiti. Though Xavier and Junior are often at odds, there's symmetry in their respective expansive images. This parallel suggests a larger chaotic world dwarfs them both. Turns out there's common ground between this duo after all!

These details remind viewers that Mountains is only depicting a sliver of this domain. Sorelle proves skilled in vividly communicating a larger world beyond these three protagonists. Details like Esperance's easygoing rapport with various women she encounters on a day-to-day basis tenderly convey this concept. There are so many stories within the locations and characters Mountains glimpses. Nobody exists in this production just to spout clumsy expository dialogue. Briefly seen individuals like a food truck operator or various stand-up comics have tangible lives of their own.

Emphasizing the detailed community Xavier and his family inhabit heightens the quietly mournful depiction of gentrification’s effects in Mountains. Scenes like a family gathering on a Sunday or Junior laughing with friends on the sidewalk burst with energy and verve. There’s such pulsating humanity in these interactions. Meanwhile, shots of empty lots where old houses once stood have an appropriately ominous aura. Grey concrete and silence fill the air of these images.

Soon, rich places aimed at white tourists will go into these spaces. Longtime denizens of this area will only find it harder and harder to stick around as rent climbs and gentrified areas expand. This inevitable outcome excluding Little Haiti’s residents seeps into images of buildings crumbling or intentionally drab shots of characters walking across rubble. This is where the importance of those wide shots comes into play. Framing Xavier with constant reminders of the wider world subtly reinforces how his job impacts others. Eventually, this man must grapple with how his means of putting food on the table adversely impacts his community. Those spacious visuals emphasize that Xavier and his actions always inhabit a larger domain. His job does not exist in a bubble, even if he doesn't fully realize it.

Contrasting those glib reminders of gentrification of impact are onscreen depictions of Little Haiti residents just navigating everyday life. Mountains is dedicated to chronicling existences upended by a process benefiting the bourgeoise. This commitment includes the welcome presence of Xavier and Esperance's sharing a deeply affable dynamic. Sorelle and Robert Colom's screenplay opts to frame the couple not as newly minted lovers or a crumbling couple. Instead, they’re depicted as a pair who’ve endured the fire and flames together. Their bond's so strong it’s conveyed in subdued yet meaningful ways. Their interactions carry a pleasant intimacy that registers as both transfixing and deeply realistic.

The emphasis on intimate humanity in Mountains is one of its greatest strengths. As for the production’s weakest aspects, Sorella and Deulofeu frustratingly opt for more banal framing in certain interior sequences. Xavier and Esperance taking a tour of a potential new home needed the same inspired framing dominating outdoor sequences chronicling the former character at work. Speaking of Esperance, her minimized role in the third act (which largely focuses on Xavier and Junior’s relationship) is a disappointment. Watching her work as a crossing guard or talking to friends about what dresses she could sew for them was so enjoyable. Having her outright vanish for portions of Mountains’ final scenes doesn't serve the film well.

Admittedly, some of these Mountains shortcomings stand out because of the movie’s better assets. Striking outdoor images beautifully conveying the impending price of gentrification, for instance, makes generic framing for indoor scenes more discernible. Among those greatest virtues are terrific lead performances from Atibon Nazaire and Sheila Anozier. The latter performer, taking on her first-ever feature film acting role, especially impresses in how she communicates Esperance's dense inner world with just a glance or brushing her on-screen husband’s shoulder. Anozier’s deeply human performance is one of the greatest ways Mountains reaffirms the eternal truth of that old proverb: “behind mountains are mountains.”