Biutiful is about a modern-day Jesus Christ. I actually didn't realize this until the New York Times review of the thing tipped me off, so if you're planning on seeing it, please recall the following formula which I'm sure you know, and which is so clearly on display in this movie I really don't see how I could have failed to pick up on it:
Flawed guy who's nonetheless better than everyone else + dies even though everyone else deserves to die more + trusts the wrong people + helps the needy + has bizarre supernatural powers + nonsensically seems to love a crazy woman who has enough baggage to fill a luxury cruise ship + doesn't really have a father + scruffy facial hair = Jesus Christ
So what is so modern-day about this particular Jesus Christ? Well, he's a bit of a gangster for one (he's involved with an utterly douchy bunch of guys who smuggle illegal immigrants into Barcelona to use for cheap labour), and he apparently has at least a slight interest in earthly pleasures ("Remember that time we fucked in the closet?" his crazy baggage-laden ladyfriend asks him). He also doesn't know how to spell (see the title).
I'll admit I kind of liked this movie, but that's just because as a hipster-in-denial, I (along with the New York Times, I daresay) tend to like movies that seem really artsy-fartsy and are in Spanish. The only other thing I thought was a bit cool about it is how you could really feel how gross Christ's apartment was, and how wacked-out his lady's issues were, to the point that you could actually almost smell their nasty-ass body odor through the screen. That's pretty amazing if you think about it.
Apart from that, though, I really only have one thing to say about this movie. Remember how when you were like seven, all the cool kids always said "That's so funny I forgot to laugh?" Well, I'm going to proclaim myself cool and say that this shit was so depressing I forgot to cry. In fact, I sort of laughed.