It’s got a main character, 10-year-old Tochtli (Miguel Valverde Uribe), with the most unforgettably forgettable idiosyncrasies. The emotional anchor of this whole thing is entirely dependent on our inclination to be protective of children, but it gives surface level characterization of both the young boy and his father Yolcaut (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo). The most interesting thing it almost pulls off is the father trying to reconcile his commitment to his son and to being macho, but it’s barely a chapter in this 2-hour story. It has some potential with the teachings and aphorisms, but it never really leans into it. It fails four different times, never with fireworks.

The official synopsis for this goes out of its way to describe the boy as someone “who likes hats, dictionaries, samurais, guillotines, and the French [and wants] a Namibian pygmy hippo.” I wish I had read this sooner, I just never thought of blurbs as warnings before.