If You Can't Argue the Facts...

His script, titled Idilio Azul, or "Blue Idyll," seems to reinforce the project's kinship with its melodramatic full-motion cousin the telenovela. The actors' lines are florid, while their instructions border on the baroque: "Moments before, you made love to him," one section reads. "Moments before, your lips hung on his, your dreams had his as their foundation. There was no part of your body that his delicate teeth did not mark, and you did the same to him. Thus you carry his taste in your mouth, though you try to hide it. Moments before, you asked him, you even heard yourself beg him to melt with you, saying it loud."

Obviously, Santillan's taste ventures beyond the restrained prose of his paper's news content. Traditionally, fotonovelas have a strong didactic element, and Santillan's is no exception, with its clear theme of responsibility.

Santillan plans to print a relatively modest run of 5,000 copies of Idilio Azul to test the waters but has high hopes that he can sell many more. So far he estimates that he has sunk $15,000 into the project, but at least the in-house talent comes relatively cheap. Santillan also splits shooting duty with other photo contributors to El Sol.

The leading man, Mario Torres, has performance experience of a different kind as a midfielder for professional soccer club FC Dallas (see "The Year of El Gato," July 14). Torres came to Santillan's attention in photos taken for an El Sol sports article. The cast and crew will see a share of any profits, but the only guaranteed compensation is the chance to participate in a unique endeavor.

Claudia Moreno, who plays the part of April, the unlucky third of the plot's central love triangle, is a star pupil in Santillan's Art Projects Model Academy. "In modeling you just keep moving, responding to directions and changing moods," she says. "For these kind of shoots you have to work to show a certain emotion and then just hold it."

Communicating emotion is the strong suit of the fotonovela format, Comings says. He is skeptical, however, that an entertainment fotonovela will appeal to a more educated and affluent Latino market without targeting a specific niche like adolescents, or including a well-known star. "I think there would have to be some kind of innovation here," he says. "A fotonovela with Brad Pitt would probably sell pretty well."

The question hanging over Idilio Azul, then, would seem to be this: What statement would its success make? It could be that Santillan will have accomplished his mission to transcend the fotonovela's traditional market. Another, more troubling interpretation is that success would simply underscore Dallas Latinos' lagging affluence and education levels. An argument for this perspective can be found in 2003 Census figures showing that Hispanics in the area are less than half as likely as any other ethnic group to have completed high school.

Jesus Alvarado, a muralist and gallery director for the Icehouse Cultural Center in Oak Cliff, suggests still a third option. He notes that among young, hip Latino-Americans there has been a recent fascination with retro Hispanic kitsch. "You know what 'naco' is?" Alvarado asks. "It's like 'ghetto.' Everybody wants to be all 'naco' now, wearing T-shirts that say 'I like beans' and stuff like that. It wouldn't surprise me if they totally got into [the fotonovela]."

Even as midnight approaches, there is still plenty of energy on the set, fueled, appropriately, by the hip retro-rock of Café Tacuba blasting from a stereo. "It's really gratifying," Santillan says, gesturing at the assembled crew. "They've decided to join my dream and make it a reality."

At the moment, the dream being realized looks to be that of Torres, who is smooching costar Gabriela Gutierrez just above the beltline as the dark-haired actress throws her head back. When the photographer pauses to adjust his camera, Torres sits up and grins widely. "I think I'm quitting my old job," he says. --Rick Kennedy