Crónica de una Fuga
So last Thursday we (the proprietors of this here blawg) stumbled upon the cutting edge, by chance going to the opening night of Crónica de una Fuga, Adrián Caetano's new and prettyfuckingamazing dictatorship/torture movie. The story of four Argentine men, more or less free of political leanings, who are kidnapped and taken to a 'detention center' in the aptly-named suburb of Morón in the late 70s, the movie follows 120 days of interrogation and torture until the men escape one rainy night. A beautifully-filmed but unadorned movie, it is for better or worse free of all Hollywood conventions (and female characters, and clothing): Simply, basically, a glaring tale of what happens when a country goes off the tracks. Rodrigo de la Serna, of Motorcycle Diaries fame, is great. The lead heavy, Pablo Echarri, is somehow rakinshly evil, the supporting class hits all the right notes, and the 70s decor is frighteningly real (That 70s Show, but with beatings). The main actors and director later visited with the President, during which Echarri (waving in photo) manages to convey, without words, the first-time-there vibe of, "Hey mom, look, I'm with the Prez! Dude!"
posted by Ian @ 9:28 PM
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Hi Ian - likewise, thought this film was outstanding. Stripped of all the usual razzmatazz, it struck me as an honest, gripping portrayal of what it must have been like during the dictatorship. It captured how horribly humdrum torture some of man's worst atrocities can become. The Christmas scene, for example, when prisoner and torturer share a glass of champagne together was gruesomely believable. I'd rather the more gratuitous violence of the mainstream film industry any day - at least, then I can pretend these things are most made up. Cheers, Oliver
oliver@argybargy.biz
I agree that "Crónica de una fuga" is a solid, well-made film, but it felt in many moments a lot like watching Garaje Olimpo again (another brutal Argentine detention/torture movie, albeit with women).
There is also something weird about the end of the movie. The very last shot is of the protagonist accompanied with text that talks about his life after his horrible experience. But the scene is totally cinematographic, feels as false and forced as the end of Rohmer’s A Winter’s Tale, which is another weird, public transportation coincidence (In "Crónica" I’m referring to the person he looks at that he has seen before – I don’t think I’m giving anything away). All I’m trying to say is that I finish watching a movie that felt a lot like another movie I’ve already seen, there’s this unnecessary cinematic detail and, at the same time, I’m like, “wait – all four of those guys went on to do pretty remarkable things... and how did they get out of Argentina? ...and how did they recover from that traumatic experience?” In other words, I had the sense that the movie repeated a lot of stock imagery of torture (from Godard’s Le Petit Soldat to Garaje Olimpo and many many movies in between) when they could have shown how these four guys, totally dehumanized, totally stripped of their identities (and all of their clothing) succeeded in recovering from that experience.
Even though Iluminados por el fuego doesn't quite pull it off, it tries to tell the story of a different kind of victim of the military dictatorship - the kids who got creamed on the Malvinas and struggled, many unsuccessfully, to return to some kind of normal life.
All that being said, the story is incredible, literally, especially for those of us lucky enough to have never lived under a dictatorship.
Man, nearly six weeks without a posting. I miss your take on things here.
-Matt
In Cuba earlier this month I saw "Crónica de una fuga" in a community theatre in the town of Vinales. Despite having little to no Spanish, my appreciation of this powerful film was not diminished. Nothing was lost through lack of translation (no subtitles of any sort)-- the mood, tension and claustrophobic air heightened with both the white hot and ice cold terror wrought by physical and mental torture of some four months. Most interesting (and realistic) were the subtle responses of those whose help was sought by the would-be escapers. Those on the outside were as captive and crippled. The scene of captives and keepers firmly in their parallel roles -- broken down briefly for a unified shriek of joy at an Argentinian soccer win -- was classic. Earlier, in Havana, we took in "The Thing About My Folks" (Paul Reiser, Peter Falk, Olympia Dukakis et al) playing downtown as part of a film festival. It was in English with Spanish subtitles and believe me, there was no comparison. Little would have come across for my hosts without the translation. -- Alonzo.
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