After a lengthy and well-received run on the festival circuit, “Going Varsity in Mariachi” has arrived this week on Netflix, where it should find the wide mainstream audience it deserves. And “mainstream” really is the operative word here. Although it may sound in synopsis like a niche-audience attraction, this engaging and entertaining documentary about Texas high-schoolers playing for keeps in statewide mariachi band competitions has the right stuff to delight even viewers who normally wouldn’t know the difference between a grito and a guitarrón.
As the opening titles succinctly explain: In Texas, where football usually tends to dominate any discussion about spirited rivalries between high schools, over 100 public schools also field competitive mariachi teams in the hopes of winning the state championship. Most of the premier teams, we’re told, hail from the Rio Grande Valley — specifically, a closely connected group of towns along the US-Mexican border.
But not all teams are created equal. Mariachi Nuevo Santander from Roma High School in Roma, Texas traditionally bestrides the match-ups like a colossus, sporting flashy attire and impressive musicianship. But directors Sam Osborn and Alejandra Vasquez have chosen to focus on the underdogs of Mariachi Oro from Edinburgh North High School, an under-financed institution in a low-income district.
Overcoming long odds, the Mariachi Oro teams have managed to secure their own fair share of trophies and acclaim over the years. But during the 2021-22 school year covered by “Going Varsity in Mariachi,” the challenges are even more daunting than in the past. Not unlike a high school football coach forced to reorganize after the graduation of key players, dedicated band director Abel Acuña finds himself in the process of rebuilding with several newbies in the mix — including violinists, trumpeters and a novice who appears barely able to handle, much less effectively strum, his bulky guitarrón (i.e., a deep-bodied Mexican six-string acoustic bass guitar).
Early on, Acuña expresses guarded optimism about his reconfigured lineup — but admits he, and his students, have a long road ahead of them, and not a lot of time to coalesce as a band.
And throughout it all, there is the specter of COVID-19, hovering and distracting. Throughout most of the documentary, we see students, teachers and audience members matter-of-factly wearing masks while in public — the horn players lower theirs during rehearsals and performances, but only briefly. Without hammering away at the obvious, the filmmakers generate subtle undercurrents of suspense without anyone directly addressing the elephant in the room: What happens if one or more mariachi players is infected or felled by the dreaded virus?
Despite the possible risks, however, the young band members of “Going Varsity in Mariachi” — all of them identified only by their first names in on-screen titles — seem more concerned with scoring victories than avoiding contagions. Bella, the charismatic violinist who serves as both the varsity team captain and de facto female lead of the movie, sees music as the best way to earn a scholarship to pursue higher education in pharmaceutical studies. Abby, another violinist, also has her eyes set on a scholarship, primarily so she can spread her wings at the relatively far-off Texas State University in San Marcos, and become independent of her close-knit family.
And then there’s Drake, the fellow doing his best, though not always succeeding, while attempting to master the guitarrón. Drake, who often recalls Jonah Hill during the latter’s “Superbad” era, initially is less than dedicated to his craft, missing practices to spend time with his new girlfriend. We’re left with the impression that this may be the first time he’s ever had a serious romantic relationship, which may account for his inattentiveness to other things. On the other hand, we’re also left with the impression that Acuña allows Drake to rejoin the band, after kicking him out, at least in part because, well, he doesn’t have anyone to replace the teen.
“Going Varsity in Mariachi” proceeds in a brisk, straightforward manner, effectively alternating between scenes of rehearsals and competitions, and glimpses into the private lives of coach and students.
Acuña admits he’s approaching burn-out after years of single-handedly doing jobs covered by “three or four full-time people” at better-funded schools. And while he generally comes off as empathetic and encouraging, he can also offer tough-love criticism — most notably when Mariachi Oro ranks near the bottom of a preliminary competition. Sure, he says, “They’re making a documentary about us.” But that doesn’t mean his players should get cocky. “We still have a job to do,” he says. “And today you did not do that job.”
Here and elsewhere, directors Osborn and Vasquez discretely achieve a riveting fly-on-the-wall intimacy with their subjects, capturing unguarded moments that are by turns affecting and amusing.
Mariah and Marlena, two openly queer girls in Mariachi Oro, worry whether they will face homophobic backlash if they pursue their dreams of becoming teachers in Texas. Still, they are willing to attend the senior prom together, and their agreement to do so is covered in one of the movie’s sweetest moments.
Abby, as a first step toward independence, requests driving lessons from her father, leading to a very funny sequence in which dad’s anxiety is pronounced. (“Hold on! That’s a stop sign!’) The scene where Acuña calls Drake’s mom to tell her that her son is (temporarily) out of the band, while a sheepish Drake stands nearby him, is sufficiently intense to make a viewer cringe with sympathetic embarrassment.
The music, ranging from such mariachi standards as “Mexico Lindo y Querido” and “Volver, Volver” to newer songs composed for the competitions, is so appealing that you can’t help wishing there were a lot more of it. But the filmmakers make it quite clear from the start that this is not so much a documentary about music as it is about musicians. It’s duly noted midway through the film: “They don’t think of themselves as high school students trying to play mariachi music. They think of themselves as mariachi players.” In other words, they think of themselves as worthy competitors on any stage.
