‘Undercover Wedding Crashers:’ A Tale Of Bursting Laughter And Busting Crime
Sitting before an audience of three, a young Sebas (Julio Bohigas-Couto) plays a melody on the piano. His exceptional talent will alter the future that lies before him, unknowingly unwrapping an unusual adventure, opening a door of odd friendships, and expanding his passion for music. He is held to a copious standard and told his future in the piano world is bright. The sequence cuts to the present day, as an older Sebas (Julián López) grows physically anxious over his request to transfer from the National Police Corps in Valladolid to the National Police Corps in Cadiz, although he has no former training or taken the entrance exam. After giving up on his piano dreams, he is reluctantly given the job after coercing the captain to accept his transfer before he tells his aunt-in-law, a politician, of his rejection. The captain makes a few calls to find an appropriate position for him to join the force. This moment spearheads the events of the story.
The Spanish film, Operación Camarón or Undercover Wedding Crashers, directed by Carlos Therón, known for his previous films La ley de Murphy (2000) and It’s for Your Own Good (2017), made around $644 thousand on its opening weekend and slightly under $3.9 million worldwide. Undercover Wedding Crashers is a remake of the Italian film Song'e Napule (2013) that Marco and Antonio Manetti directed. As an adaptation, the film does take its own liberties, such as adding humor while still following the central plot of Song'e Napule.
The film follows the “fish out of water” trope with Sebas, a newly hired police officer, is forced to be a part of an undercover mission to infiltrate a music band named “The Lolos,” who a local mob boss, Abeledo (Antonio Dechent), hires to perform at the wedding of his daughter. As he is new to the force and is an unknown to the underworld, he must fill in the role of a keyboard player and covertly search for the identity of the mob boss’ partner-in-crime, “The Ghost.” During the mission, Sebas is out of his element and must pretend to be someone he’s not: more upbeat, confident, and a bit of a partygoer. The bonds he creates with his band members develops as he spends more time with them and learns to overcome his fear of performing in front of a crowd. He discovers a friend of the band is a drug trafficker, transporting the drugs from the boats that arrive on the coast, working for Abeledo. His cover is semi-blown as a drug dealer, Antoñito (Alberto López), a once loyal dealer for Abeledo, blackmails Sebas for his own business.
At the beginning of the film, Sebas’ character was very polished, yet nervous and anxious at the sight of authority. He tries to be a rule follower and is a slight doormat. He starts to grow out of his initial, push-over self when he breaks some rules by playing a piano stored in evidence at the station after his fellow officer refuses to believe that Sebas is a piano prodigy. Once forced to participate in the infiltration mission, Sebas is reluctantly pushed towards his limit. He needs to act like someone he is not, and has to overcome his innate fear of performing in front of an audience, which is the reason he gave up on pursuing music. The nature of the mission requires Sebas to undergo situations he would rather not deal with, such as sitting in the freezing ice bath and getting drunk with unfamiliar faces. Such actions go against his comfort zone and leave him feeling uncomfortable.There is one scene where it threads the line between comical and heartwarming: Sebas’ second performance with the band, after the disastrous end of the first. The main singer, Lolo, played by Carlos Librado, comically tries to suggest weed, but Sebas, not wanting to hear it, turns the music down, forcing Lolo to take his feelings seriously. Lolo gives Sebas solid advice, lending him a hand at facing his fear rather than letting it control him, giving Sebas the confidence needed to set foot back on stage.
In the beginning, the comedy aspect of the film may fall flat for some; many jokes lose their meaning and humorous touch upon translation. The humor used in the film targets a specific audience, leaving behind those who do not understand the culture or the language. The English subtitles do not enhance the script or do it justice. In fact, it taints the humor to an extreme. There are several instances where the comedy gets lost in translation: Sebas crashing into the hood of a car, Seba’s phone falling onto the ground, and the scene where the three detectives excessively over exaggerate that he must do everything in his power to make sure the mission is successful. For those left behind by the language barrier and the humor element, the comedic tone of the scenes may feel stiff and out of place, leaving behind a lackluster experience for the audience.
While most of the humorous aspect doesn’t translate well, not all of the jokes resulted from complications in converting between Spanish and English humor or the English subtitles not being up to par with the script. One particular scene felt excruciatingly uncomfortable and awkward; when Sebas,who is not really a drinker, is offered a beer by Lolo, which he rejected, but later accepted in an effort to blend in, as this is his first interaction with the band. Instead of a beer, Sebas asks for whiskey, and upon drinking it in one gulp, he accidentally spits it out on Lolo’s face. The scene was ridiculously agonizing to watch, as no speck of humor could be found. It was merely an uncomedic scene needlessly included in the film. The purpose of the inclusion of the sequence is notable, but the execution did not elevate the film whatsoever nor enhance the humoristic touch.
Despite the barrier for those who do not understand the humor, enjoyable scenes are still included that adequately translate between English and Spanish humor. Upon Sebas’ first performance with the band, it turns into a hilarious disaster. A large group of women made their way up on stage to dance to the music and with the members of the band. One woman, in particular, tried to drag Sebas away from the keyboard to dance, but he refused. While she drags him away, Sebas attempts to continue playing before his instrument is out of reach. Once this happens, he persistently refuses to dance with her, and she unknowingly leads them closer to the edge of the stage, where she falls. The silence that proceeds afterward is utterly hilarious. Such moments in the film magnify the jest throughout the film.
The cast had great chemistry with one another, utterly nailing their characters flawlessly. There were many scenes and scenarios where their interactions and reactions felt genuine, enough to pull at heartstrings and generate authentic laughter. Carlos Librado brought the character of Lolo to life in every wacky scenario he was put into. Lolo is a character who pretends to be the boss of everyone, who is the sole leader of the band, yet truly listens to his band members and his stage manager. There is a moment where he shoots down an idea Sebas brings to them, and from the first reactions of the other members, it’s assumed Lolo doesn’t take too kindly towards questioning his authority. However, this is all washed away when he allows Sebas to share his idea. Carlos, and the rest of the casts’ performance was immaculate as it grasped the attention of the audience. It shifted away, leaving building tension into obscurity. The bonds the characters shared felt genuine, almost giving the impression that they were in a band together.
Undercover Wedding Crashers is a comical film that takes its audience on a unique and ridiculous journey. It shares the laughable story of friendship and confronting fear directly. The situation Sebas finds himself in furthers the drive of his character development. Although the language and culture barrier for some might hinder the experience, there are still moments of pure hilarity that transcend the hurdles. While the humor doesn’t always succeed as intended for everyone, there are still heartwarming moments and genuine performances to elevate the cinematic experience.
