I met Rodríguez in his cramped, cold living room. “They’re nice, better than those I met before.” “The people keep an eye out for me here,” he told me. For the first time since he left the mountains, his life was quiet and peaceful. Rodríguez moved here in the late 1990s, when he was taken in by a retired policeman, who brought him to Galiciaand gave him a job doing farm work and a place to live.
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The rest of the time, he stays home, watching daytime TV for hours. He is retired, and spends his time walking in the countryside, at the bar – “where he likes to play the clown,” a waitress told me – or hunting wild boar with a friend. He lives in Rante, a sleepy hamlet of 60 or so families in Galicia, in north-westSpain. Marcos Rodríguez still finds it hard to be human. “For most of my life,” Rodríguez told me, “I had a very bad time among humans”.
Some people did try to help him, but most found him awkward and uncommunicative, and he was largely shunned by society. He worked odd jobs on construction sites, in bars, nightclubs and hotels he was robbed and exploited: people took advantage of his unworldliness. He lived in convents, abandoned buildings and hostels all over Spain. In the 50 years since he was found in the wilderness, Rodríguez has struggled to get a handle on society’s expectations. One day he went into a church, where an acquaintance had told him God lived. The first time he ate in a restaurant, he was surprised he had to pay for his food. When he first went to the cinema – to see a Western – he ran out of the theatre because he was terrified of the cowboys galloping toward the camera.
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When he left the convent hospital, adjusting to life among humans brought with it a series of shocks. It is almost impossible to imagine what it would be like to emerge into adulthood without any of the socialisation that the rest of us unconsciously absorb, via a million imperceptible cues and incidents, as children and teenagers. Eventually a young priest brought him to the hospital ward of a convent in Madrid, where he stayed for a year and received a remedial education from the nuns. He tried to flee, but the officers caught him, tied his hands and brought him to the nearest village. Twelve years later, police found him hiding in the mountains, wrapped in a deerskin and with long, matted hair.
With no one to talk to, he lost the use of language, and began to bark, chirp, screech and howl. Alone in the wild, as he tells it, he was raised by wolves, who protected and sheltered him. All of which adds to the shame that the whole thing doesn't quite feel cohesive, throwing out some potentially interesting themes, but never really leaning into them, and offering a strong aesthetic and intriguing tone that is never fully realized.His story is that he was abandoned as a child of seven, in 1953, and left to fend for himself. These include dimly-lit scenes that illuminate the animalistic nature of the lean and muscular Jacob, as well as some quirky shots, which tightly frame Depp's face - that is adorned with whiskers - accentuating her naturally feline-like features. In addition, the portrayal of the psychological methods used in the facility feels overly familiar and very one-note - though it certainly gets the job done in terms of them appearing inhumane. Paddy Considine's aggressive Zookeeper is lacking in substance, veering into two-dimensional stereotype. They bring much-needed nuance to a narrative that is often clunky and over-simplistic, which feels at odds with the movie's off-kilter style. At the center of Wolf, and what holds it together, is a performance from MacKay that is both restrained and fully committed - supported by a similarly impressive turn from Depp. Writer and director Nathalie Biancheri's sophomore film is certainly ambitious, but doesn't quite make the impact its complex themes and artsy cinematography seem to promise.
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