Richard Crouse

“Carmen” borrows its name and main themes from 19^th century works by romantic novelist Prosper Mérimée and composer Georges Bizet, but is set very firmly in modern day. A loose and often surreal adaptation of the novel and the opera of the same name, this movie begins with a tragic event that shapes the rest of the story.

When a bullet from a drug cartel member kills defiant flamenco dancer Zilah (Marina Tamayo) in the Mexican desert, her daughter Carmen (Melissa Barrera) is left alone and vulnerable. Fleeing to safety with the help of a smuggler, she heads for the US border and Masilda (Rossy de Palma), her mother’s best friend.

On the American side in Texas, Aiden (recent Oscar nominee Paul Mescal), a discharged Marine suffering from PTSD, reluctantly takes a job patrolling the border.

The journeys intersect when Carmen and other immigrants attempt an illegal crawl under the fence dividing the two countries. Spotted by Mike (Benedict Hardie), a racist guard with a quick trigger finger, they are met with a hail of gunfire. Carmen escapes with Adreian in tow. On the run, the pair begin a passionate affair as they plot their next steps.

“Carmen” is a musical odyssey but it isn’t exactly a musical. It is a gritty and timely story told with magic realism, where contemporary dance and music are part of the story’s language. Directed by French dancer Benjamin Millepied, who choreographed the 2010 movie “Black Swan” and the “sandwalk” in “Dune,” goes for a dream like feel that stands at stark contrast to the gritty reality of Carmen and Adrian’s situation.

This approach does make for some jarring transitions from scene to scene, as the movie shifts from pragmatism to avant-garde fever dreams, and it can be confusing, but the sheer beauty of the dance sequences and the music goes a long way in keeping the experience compelling. Millepied’s dance sequences are, unsurprisingly, visually stunning, and often worth the price of admission alone.

Barrera and Mescal’s smoldering chemistry is “Carmen’s” touchstone to reality, but this isn’t about realism, it is about pure emotion. Often more beautiful than cohesive, it’s geared to make you think and feel, and on that level it succeeds.