When I heard the World Trade Organization (WTO) was holding its next ministerial meeting in a remote hamlet in the farthest reaches of the State of Yucatan in southern Mexico, I thought the occasion presented a unique opportunity two accomplish two disparate goals. First, to provide background on this year’s WTO agenda and, second, to indulge you in a belated critique of one of this year’s best kept secrets in below-the-radar independent cinema (you might have missed it in theaters).

The first thing you will notice about the WTO this time around is how far it has advanced on the PR learning curve since the catastrophic Seattle protests of 1999. You can’t blame them for trying. On opening day Wednesday, a picketer stabbed himself to death holding a sign that read “WTO kills farmers.” The Director-General, Supachai Panitchpakdi, increasingly sounded like the protesters, proclaiming, “there comes a time when rhetoric has to be backed by action.” Similarly, Mac patron saint Kofi Annan spoke of trade barriers that “stunt, stifle and starve.”

Much of the criticism of the WTO has centered on its “undemocratic” nature, epitomized by closed meetings and secret agendas. This year, however, the WTO allowed non-profit organizations a seat at the table. The representatives unceremoniously used this opportunity to stage loud and obtrusive protests inside the compound. You give them an inch…

The main issue this year is agricultural subsidies. The two sides could hardly be more intransigent. The presidents of Mali and Burkina Faso co-wrote a New York Times op-ed last summer titled: “Your Farm Subsidies Are Strangling Us.” Twenty-one developing nations have collectively demanded that the E.U. and the U.S., the two biggest subsidy offenders, do away with their protectionist agricultural policies that disadvantage farmers abroad. The two economic juggernauts justified their outright rejection of the proposal by citing past token concessions. Despite the optimistic oratory, it is unlikely that countries such as France will abandon their overfed farmers anytime soon.

In the same spot a year ago, two intrepid young filmmakers set out to capture both the spirit of adolescence (or 20-somethings acting like pre-teens) and the hardships of life in rural Mexico. Unlike contemporary television’s often stilted and inhibited portrayal of youth, Mary-Ellis Bunim and Jonathan Murray’s oeuvre, coquettishly titled The Real Cancun, offers us a rare and candid glimpse into the aspirations and fears of 16 regular young adults.

The film is more than just visionary, however: it can count among its celluloid antecedents the cinema vérité of director Jean Rouch and the spontaneous acting style of Mexican actor Pedro Armendáriz. Part of the film’s genius stems simply from its freshness. Until now, directors have limited themselves to trained actors caged in elaborate “studios.” Bunim and Murray sought a cast of “real” people who would play themselves, doing away altogether with a script. For this reason, the two main characters’ flirtations on film are not the product of some highly paid screenplay writer, but true emotions being manifested in real time before the audience.

In what can only be described as a postmodern twist to Bunim and Murray’s opus, the screen in The Real Cancun is a mirror being held out to the audience for self-introspection. The old wall separating the fantastique of cinema from the quotidien of everyday life has been forcefully torn down, uniting viewer and actor.

Meanwhile, in the other real Cancun, trade and finance ministers from around 146 nations are engaged in a bitter debate on the relationship between international trade and investment, and its “implications for economic growth and development.” The WTO, which sets legal rules for international commerce, is only the most conspicuous symbol of a long-festering dispute on the benefits for developing nations of removing trade barriers such as import tariffs, quotas and government subsidies on both sides.

Statistics can be misleading and free trade is no exception. A University of Michigan study concluded that eliminating a third of the world’s trade barriers would amplify the international economy some $613 billion. But who benefits? Clearly not everybody. As easy as it is to portray the Seattle, Quebec City, Washington, London, Prague gang as hooligan would-be anarchists, the “anti-globalization” movement plainly reflects a frustration with both the pace and nature of economic progress in developing countries. For example, Mexican farmers comprise a significant portion of the nay-sayers. U.S. officials are fond of citing two neoliberal darlings, Chile and El Salvador, as examples of successful economic models in practice, but a widening income gap threatens to leave the poor majority behind in Chile and El Salvador as well as throughout Latin America.

Just like their statist counterparts, the participants in The Real Cancun must endure their own contests of force and strength. The audience hangs in total suspense as the twins, Nicole and Roxanne, recreate a sophisticated arabesque pose with dripping torsos to upstage flamboyant Sarah in a wet T-shirt contest. In the best body contest, it is the film’s lanky underdog who prevails against a Miami Beach model.

Perhaps the world’s poorest countries could take a hint from Alan, the improbable star of The Real Cancun. A certified loser (read: no drinking) at first, Alan finally gives in to his fellow spring breakers and imbibes in the spirits of the Mexican night. The result? The realization of his wildest fantasies and the lasting respect of his peers. Hoisted on the shoulders of his comrades in one of the film’s last sequences, Alan is the Horatio Alger of a new époque: tequila as king-maker.

The moral of the tale? Maybe all those nitpicky African, Southeast Asian and Latin American countries should just unrestrainedly partake in the pleasures of cutthroat laissez-faire neoliberalism and see how they make out (no, the other Cancun). If you expected any meaningful economic insight, I apologize. As China’s finance minister put it, in between taking body shots off the Chilean ambassador, “Viva Spring Break!”