Review: ‘The Whistlers’, A Film Noir Where No One Is Clean As A Whistle

Mobsters and the police hunting them down. Corruption and deceit. Surveillance, backstabbing, robberies, and of course…whistling – what else would you expect from a modern-day film noir? Well writer/director Corneliu Porumboiu gives us all of this and more in The Whistlers.

Cristi (Vlad Ivanov), a narcotics detective, gets pulled into a seedy web of crime – and at the center of it is a group of mobsters. He is taken to the island of La Gomera in the Spanish Canary islands to learn a secret whistling language known as Silbo Gomero (which actually exists!). Silbo Gomero essentially translates Spanish into a series of whistles, and they go even further in The Whistlers by adding Romanian characters to it as well. The goal is to help mob boss Paco (Agustí Villaronga) get his right-hand man Zsolt (Sabin Tambrea) out of prison. Of course, Cristi and his fellow police officers are the ones that framed and arrested Zsolt in the first place for drugs and money laundering, but that’s neither here nor there.  

Enter the femme fatale Gilda (Catrinel Marlon). A suave and powerful woman who knows how to use her wits and looks to make men do what she pleases. She toes the line and at any moment it can never be clear whose side she is on – the only thing we know is she always has her own best interests at heart. Gilda and Kiko (Antonio Buíl) struggle teaching Cristi the whistling language in a series of humorous, almost slapstick like, scenes that show his knowledge of Silbo Gomero progressing. Back home in Romania Cristi’s every move is being scrutinized by his hawk of a boss Magda (Rodica Lazar) – both literally and figuratively as she has ordered surveillance to be placed on Cristi by Alin (George Pistereanu), a fellow narcotics officer whom she actually trusts. Cristi must juggle relationships on both sides of the law – thinking he’s in control, but with such delicate relationships, it’s tough to tell who actually is.

First and foremost, it’s nearly impossible to find someone in The Whistlers that is a good person. The cops are corrupt, the criminals are…well criminals. The police are working with the criminals and backstabbing each other – no one knows who they can actually trust. It’s a twisted web of lies and conspiracies and one that causes the film to become murky and confusing. We go back and forth through time, jumping from La Gomera to Romania and even making a stop in Singapore. This shifting and hopping leads the narrative to become difficult to follow. Yet no matter where or when in the film, an underlying question remains – when even the supposed good guys are breaking the rules, who do you root for?

There are certainly things to like in The Whistlers, with the music and cinematography leading the charge. Porumboiu makes numerous interesting stylistic choices and his sense of timing and pace results in some truly hilarious moments throughout the film. Porumboiu also makes nods to classic films from the past, including a glaringly obvious one to Psycho – that did not go unnoticed or unappreciated. The entire film seems to be made up of dichotomies – the good guys and bad guys, loud blaring music immediately followed by deafening silence, the music itself ranging from Iggy Pop's The Passenger to Opera, the paradise of the Canary Islands to the bleak and cold Romania. Yet these dichotomies start to blend – yes, the Canary Islands are gorgeous, but once you realize your phone is being tapped and people are watching you, can you enjoy paradise; and what do you do when those in a position to uphold the law are the ones skirting it themselves? Porumboiu weaves an interesting tale in The Whistlers, however it does become a little too convoluted at times which takes away from the film. All in all, there is enough here to make it worthy of a watch, but I’d wait for a Netflix release.  

2.5 out of 5