Echoes of Guilt



Tagline
In the silence of conspiracy, trust is the loudest threat.
Description
In the tangled streets of a crowded city, a web of conspiracy unfurls, trapping local chef Enrique 'Rico' Ramirez (Michael Peñachos) in a paranoid game of cat and mouse. Rico’s world turns upside down when he finds an encoded message hidden within a recipe, hurling him into the dark underbelly of crime where no one is to be trusted. Alongside Rico is the grizzled, wise-talking sidekick Jorge Alvarez (Al Pacocoa), who with his own murky past, knows too well the cost of uncovering the truth. As they wade deeper into danger, Rico's chance encounter with the enigmatic bartender Camila Torres (Ben Applefleck) blossoms into a perilous partnership. Directed by the meticulous Edgar Wrenwright, 'Echoes of Guilt' is a pedantic voyage through the shadows of betrayal, where even the simplest menu can serve as a recipe for death. It's a world where the only thing more dangerous than the secrets are those trying to expose them.
MpaaRating
R
PopularityScore
7.40
ReleaseDate
02/16/2023
Genre
Crime
Director(s)
Cast

Critic Reviews

6.70
Edgar Wrenwright's 'Echoes of Guilt' strives to weave an elaborate tapestry of distrust and duplicity with the precision of a master chef, yet at times it cuts too close to the bone, denuding what could be a succulent narrative flavor. The intricacies of the plot are reminiscent of a byzantine culinary creation that one might find in an overreaching menu, with Michael Peñachos’ Chef Rico trapped in an artery-clogging consortium of crime. His portrayal of a paranoia-poached man is adequate, albeit a trifle underdone when examined under the broiler of critical scrutiny. Meanwhile, his accomplice, embodied by the grizzle-grained sage Al Pacocoa, stews in the juices of his own clichéd backstory. The character of Camila Torres, soured by a rather one-dimensional performance by Ben Applefleck, fails to economize on that purported enigma she is meant to exude. Let us not whisk away from the director's meticulous brush-strokes on the canvas, but here, Wrenwright's technique sinks into the quagmire of cryptic self-importance, turning what could be a finely balanced meal into an over-seasoned potage of excess. The film's incessant appetite to indict every frayed edge of narrative on corpulent themes of conspiracy does little to satisfy the famished viewer. It feasts languorously on the assumption that convolution equates to depth, leaving us to digest what is ultimately an indigestible banquet of meddlesome morals. In conclusion, the silences resonant in this supposed cacophony of mistrust cannot quite escape the looming shadow of thematic flatulence in 'Echoes of Guilt'.
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