The leading man, Mario Torres, has performance experience of a different kind as a midfielder for professional soccer club FC Dallas (see "The Year of El Gato," July 14). Torres came to Santillan's attention in photos taken for an El Sol sports article. The cast and crew will see a share of any profits, but the only guaranteed compensation is the chance to participate in a unique endeavor.
Claudia Moreno, who plays the part of April, the unlucky third of the plot's central love triangle, is a star pupil in Santillan's Art Projects Model Academy. "In modeling you just keep moving, responding to directions and changing moods," she says. "For these kind of shoots you have to work to show a certain emotion and then just hold it."
Things can get steamy in a fotonovela.
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Communicating emotion is the strong suit of the fotonovela format, Comings says. He is skeptical, however, that an entertainment fotonovela will appeal to a more educated and affluent Latino market without targeting a specific niche like adolescents, or including a well-known star. "I think there would have to be some kind of innovation here," he says. "A fotonovela with Brad Pitt would probably sell pretty well."
The question hanging over Idilio Azul, then, would seem to be this: What statement would its success make? It could be that Santillan will have accomplished his mission to transcend the fotonovela's traditional market. Another, more troubling interpretation is that success would simply underscore Dallas Latinos' lagging affluence and education levels. An argument for this perspective can be found in 2003 Census figures showing that Hispanics in the area are less than half as likely as any other ethnic group to have completed high school.
Jesus Alvarado, a muralist and gallery director for the Icehouse Cultural Center in Oak Cliff, suggests still a third option. He notes that among young, hip Latino-Americans there has been a recent fascination with retro Hispanic kitsch. "You know what 'naco' is?" Alvarado asks. "It's like 'ghetto.' Everybody wants to be all 'naco' now, wearing T-shirts that say 'I like beans' and stuff like that. It wouldn't surprise me if they totally got into [the fotonovela]."
Even as midnight approaches, there is still plenty of energy on the set, fueled, appropriately, by the hip retro-rock of Café Tacuba blasting from a stereo. "It's really gratifying," Santillan says, gesturing at the assembled crew. "They've decided to join my dream and make it a reality."
At the moment, the dream being realized looks to be that of Torres, who is smooching costar Gabriela Gutierrez just above the beltline as the dark-haired actress throws her head back. When the photographer pauses to adjust his camera, Torres sits up and grins widely. "I think I'm quitting my old job," he says. --Rick Kennedy
