Nine Queens

A Mamet-like, intricately plotted scamarama that doesn’t waste a line (let alone a scene) and zips by at breakneck pace, this Argentine offering knocks the last few Hollywood join-the-dots thrillers for six.

Despite a conspicuous absence of name stars and a budget that couldn’t be directly held reponsible for the nation’s recent economic collapse, Nine Queens has more life and brain about it than any thriller this side of Amores Perros, and is mandatory viewing for those who prize labyrinthine, don’t-trust-a-soul machinations and manipulations above all else (think Mamet’s House of Games).

Plot: smooth con merchant Marcos (Darin) takes the inexperienced Juan (Pauls) under his wing, and the pair test out each other’s street smarts over a sequence of small-time scams. (Semi-)trust established, the surprisingly likeable duo then stumble across the big one, an elaborate stamp forgery which soon has all parties swindling, stealing and double-crossing to beat the band.

Though hardly a political film, Nine Queens manages to find corruption at every turn, not entirely surprising in view of the prevailing climate in la patria grande: more importantly, it’s a fucking excellent thriller. OK, it’s unlikely that the film’s ecstatic international reception will entirely compensate all Argentines for the existential grief and anguish sustained during the recent footballing Falklands, but it might cheer them up momentarily.