The Crime Of Padre Amaro -2002- -
Decades later, the film’s critique of power and the silence of institutions remains uncomfortably relevant. It serves as a reminder that the most dangerous crimes are often those committed in the name of "the greater good."
Furthermore, the film is a time capsule of Mexican cinema’s golden age. It arrived just as directors like Alfonso Cuarón ( Y Tu Mamá También , released the same year), Alejandro González Iñárritu ( Amores Perros , 2000), and Guillermo del Toro ( The Devil’s Backbone , 2001) were putting Mexico on the global film map. Gael García Bernal was the face of this New Mexican Wave. His performance as Amaro—shifting from boyish innocence to reptilian self-preservation—is a career-best. the crime of padre amaro -2002-
In a devastating climax, the abortion goes horribly wrong. Amelia dies of a hemorrhage in a squalid room while Amaro waits outside, unable to call a doctor or a priest for the last rites because it would expose his sin. The film ends not with Amaro’s punishment, but with his promotion. He gives a triumphant Easter sermon, his reputation untarnished, while Father Benito looks on approvingly. The final shot lingers on Amaro’s face—a mask of piety hiding a soul in ruins. The crime, the film argues, is not just the secret affair; it is the institutional machinery that protects the abuser and destroys the victim. Decades later, the film’s critique of power and
What begins as a forbidden romance—steamy and clandestine—quickly curdles into something far darker. When Amelia becomes pregnant, the stakes are raised, and the film shifts genres. It transforms from a romance into a psychological thriller and finally into a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. Amaro’s decision to end the pregnancy, and his manipulation of the narrative to save his own skin, marks the completion of his transformation from a man of God to a man of self-preservation. Gael García Bernal was the face of this New Mexican Wave
The 2002 film The Crime of Padre Amaro El Crimen del Padre Amaro
However, the film’s brilliance lies in its slow-burn deconstruction of Amaro’s character. He does not arrive as a villain; he becomes one through a series of compromises and rationalizations. His affair with Amelia (Ana Claudia Talancón), a devout 16-year-old girl, serves as the catalyst for his moral collapse.
More than two decades later, The Crime of Padre Amaro has aged remarkably well—and not for pleasant reasons. The early 2000s were a prelude to the global reckoning with clerical abuse that exploded with the Pennsylvania grand jury report of 2018, the Chilean church crisis, and countless other scandals worldwide. What seemed like “anti-clerical exaggeration” to some in 2002 now reads as eerie prophecy.