Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really) 1972
Luis Argueta's debut black-and-white 16 mm experimental short, *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really) (1972)*, turns an unconventional art class into a provocative commentary on power, perception, and reversal.
Director: Luis Argueta
Frequently Asked Questions
What is *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really)* (1972) about?
The film reimagines a life-drawing class where the model stays fully dressed while the students are nude, flipping traditional roles to explore themes of power, vulnerability, and role reversal. It's less about technique and more about the absurdity and tension of expectations.
Who directed *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really)*?
The short film was directed by Luis Argueta, marking his first black-and-white 16 mm experimental work.
Who stars in *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really)*?
Cast details are not publicly listed for this obscure experimental short.
Is *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really)* (1972) worth watching?
As a five-minute experimental curiosity, it's best appreciated by fans of avant-garde cinema or those interested in 1970s underground film culture. Its provocative setup delivers more than its runtime suggests, though mainstream appeal is limited.
How long is *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really)*?
The runtime is 5 minutes.
About Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really) (1972) — A daring experimental short from Luis Argueta
Luis Argueta's debut black-and-white 16 mm experimental short, *Perdón Del Gato Rabón (I'm Sorry!...But Not Really) (1972)*, turns an unconventional art class into a provocative commentary on power, perception, and reversal. Shot for the Ann Arbor Film Festival, the film stages a life-drawing session where the model remains fully clothed while the students are stripped bare, inverting traditional roles with playful subversion. With elaborate sound design by Joe Pearson, the five-minute piece explores themes of vulnerability and authority through stark imagery and rhythmic audio. Its daring visual contrast—between the draped figure and exposed artists—creates a disorienting yet absorbing atmosphere that lingers long after the credits roll.
Often described as a cheeky social experiment in film form, *Perdón Del Gato Rabón* merges underground art-house aesthetics with a wink of irreverence. The film's inclusion in the Ann Arbor festival's campus tour added rare visibility to a work that thrives in intimate, confrontational spaces. Though concise, its impact lies in what it refuses to say—leaving viewers to ponder the thin line between critique and comedy in experimental cinema.