El Conde (2023)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile

Acclaimed Chilean director Pablo Larraín continues in biopic mode with El Conde, a film centered around Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet, following cinematic idiosyncrasies such as Jackie (2016, about Jackeline Kennedy), Neruda (2016, about Pablo Neruda), and Spencer (2021, about Lady Diana). This time, Larraín ventures deep into surrealism, transforming Pinochet into a 250-year-old vampire in a fable that is both somber and facetious. 

Drawing from German Expressionism (Nosferatu and Vampyr are references) as well as absurdism, the director creates a sinister black-and-white world of fantasy to denounce real sinners and their indelible sins from the past. A mysterious British woman, whose identity is revealed by the end to our surprise, narrates the story of Pinochet (Jaime Vadell), a mediocre royalist French soldier turned oppressive commander and vampire. Years after committing atrocities, he now seeks death. His wife, Lucia (Gloria Münchmeyer), betrays him with his loyal slave and master of torture, Fyodor (Alfredo Castro), who is also a vampire. The scenario is further complicated with the arrival of his five greedy children, and Carmen (Paula Luchsinger is phenomenal), a sweet and sly nun disguised as an accountant and secretly assigned to exorcise him from evil. Unexpectedly, in love, the weak count just needs fresh blood (or a human heart smoothie) from young people to rejuvenate. He no longer wants to die.

Equipped with daring shots, classical arias, religious chants, and a fair dose of madness, the ultra-hype El Conde is delirious and violent. It’s carried out with audacity and virtuosity, showcasing the filmmaker’s mastery of his art. The film is far from making a fully formed organic statement, but that wasn’t Larraín’s intention. Fearless of the result, he focused on satirizing with imagination and scathing black humor, metaphorically condemning the man while also providing entertaining.

Spencer (2021)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: UK / USA / other

The ever-inventive Chilean director Pablo Larraín (The Club, 2015; Neruda, 2016; Ema, 2020) returns to the psychological biographical drama with Spencer, a “fable based on a true tragedy” that fictionalizes the moment when Diana, the late princess of Wales, decided to end her marriage with the unfaithful Prince Charles. If in Jackie (2016), Natalie Portman was cast to play Jackie Onassis with a glare, then Kristen Stewart impersonates Lady Di here with class. The role suits her very well and the resemblance is quite successful. 

The year is 1991, and Diana, fed up with the monarchic British traditions and eager to gain her freedom, drives herself to Sandringham Estate to celebrate Christmas with the Royal Family for the last time. A complete misfit, this rule-breaker feels like drowning in cold cynicism, strict etiquette and ceremonial rituals that show that no one is above tradition. There are these hushed, boring meals during which she struggles to hide her bulimia, as well as some dazzling, suffocating moments - recalling Cassavetes - when everything seems to fall apart. 

Although there’s an exaggerated buoyancy at times, giving a few scenes a somewhat foolish aspect, the film is not without imagination. Still, Steven Knight’s script hits a few bumps, and Larraín seems undecided now and then if he should emphasize the drama or the comedy, compromising the results with an unbalanced mix of the two. 

This artful, well-acted alienation is both clean-cut and oblique, as well as frivolous and amusing in spots. A celebration of freedom after all, arranged with majestic settings and dazzlingly filmed with arresting cinematography by Claire Mathon (Portrait of a Lady on Fire; Atlantics).

Ema (2021)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile

The Chilean Pablo Larraín is a fabulous director, but his newest film, Ema, leaves one with a sense of anticlimax and dissatisfaction, especially after the ridiculous finale. The filmmaker maintains the dark undertones that characterize his films but forgot the sardonic humor in this icy tale of guilt, cynicism and lust that loses consistency with time.

The story, co-written by Larraín, Guillermo Calderón (who worked with director in The Club and Neruda) and Alejandro Moreno, follows a heartless blonde dancer, Ema (Mariana Di Girolamo), who faces widespread social contempt for having returned the Colombian child she adopted with her sterile and inflexible choreographer husband, Gastón (Gael Garcia Bernal), to the social services. Since then, guilt has been consuming their hearts, not to mention that their relationship was heavily affected. Hence, it’s not that strange that love, blame and forgiveness blur with hazy boundaries throughout the film. The plan devised by Ema to reach the child years later is carried out too easily, making us doubt its credibility.

Things can be viscerally painful in one moment and openly voluptuous the next, but it’s clear that the intensity of the performances, especially Di Girolamo in her first leading role, is what pulls the film out of mediocrity. 

Another positive aspect is the soundtrack by Nicolas Jaar, which fits hand-in-glove in the type of mood envisioned by its creators. Pity that the zaniness of the plot prevented Larraín from succeeding this time.

Note: this review was also published on UK’s Flickfeast website

Neruda (2016)

Directed by Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile / Argentina / other

Undoubtedly, Pablo Larraín is the most exciting Chilean filmmaker working today. He has been carving his mark in the contemporary world cinema through beautiful artistic works such as “Tony Manero”, “Post Mortem”, “No”, and “The Club”.
Last year, he filmed a couple of interesting biopics, which regardless the bold approach and peculiar vision, had different impacts on me. If “Jackie” impressed me most through the stylish visuals, “Neruda” strongly hit me with its poetic narrative and passionate conception.

Written by Guillermo Calderón and starring Gael García Bernal and Luis Gnecco in the main roles, the film adopts the qualities of a detective story painted with lyrical hues and bolstered by a cat-and-mouse game taken to philosophical extremes.

In the late 40s, Pablo Neruda (Gnecco), an earthy and provocative poet, throws out passionate words that are food for the poor and strength for the oppressed. In addition to being the voice of the Chilean people, he’s also a proud militant of the communist party and senator, projecting his strong voice against the brutal anti-communist repression led by the president Gabriel Gonzalez Videla (Alfredo Castro).

Forced to abandon his splendid house, a stage for many wild nocturnal parties in the company of intellectuals, aristocrats, and often criminals, Neruda hides in remote rural areas in Argentina, where he tries to escape the astute and relentless inspector Oscar Peluchonneau (Bernal), who tries to hunt him down as he ardently narrates this story. At the same time that Peluchonneau eagerly dreams with the glory of the capture, he often vacillates in his true inner self by showing great admiration and curiosity for the poet’s work and personality. Nonetheless, he focuses on his mission with obstinate determination without exteriorizing what he feels or thinks.

In turn, the incorrigible Neruda is not afraid to expose himself to dangers. He regularly visits bars where he drinks and interacts with women and artists. The ones he can really trust are longtime lover Delia del Carril (Mercedes Morán) and the famous Pablo Picasso (Emilio Gutiérrez Caba) who clandestinely takes his words outside.

Obsession remains one of Larrain’s favorite topics and here, he had the chance to explore it with a mix of dark and wry tones, interesting dialogues, and attractively composed settings framed by the lens of his habitual cinematographer Sergio Armstrong.
“Neruda” is a fascinating piece of cinema, an elegiac and exhilarating chant of refined artistry that reaches the sky not only through the faultless performances by Gnecco and Bernal, but also through an engrossing direction.

Jackie (2016)

Directed by Pablo Larraín
Country: USA / Chile / France

The filmmaking competence of the acclaimed Chilean director Pablo Larraín ("Tony Manero", "Post Mortem", "No", "The Club") is not at stake in his latest feature, “Jackie”, a stylized biopic with a few aspects to admire.

The film, written by Noah Oppenheim (“The Maze Runner”, “Allegiance”) and co-produced by Darren Aronofsky ("Requiem for a Dream", "The Wrestler", "Black Swan"), is centered on the former First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy, emulating her emotional states in the aftermath of President John F. Kennedy’s shocking assassination in 1963. 
Natalie Portman flawlessly embodies the title character and delivers an enlightened, Oscar-worthy performance. She got strong back up from Billy Crudup, Peter Sarsgaard, and John Hurt.

On a cold winter day, an apparently self-confident Jackie welcomes a curious journalist (Crudrup) into her house. He just wants to know the truth about what really happened in the days immediately following the tragic occurrence.
Alternating between serious and playful, Jackie goes through that grieving period in an unsentimental way. She brings up all the turmoil around the case - the devastating affliction caused by the loss, the scary autopsy and funeral, the last day in the White House, and a few relevant moments spent in the company of Bob Kennedy (Sarsgaard), her protective brother-in-law, Nancy Tuckerman (Greta Gerwig), the caring White House social secretary, and an understanding priest (Hurt) who helped her to regain balance.

The settings are decorated with gusto and an encouraging luminosity is present even in the darkest scenes. All these aspects enhance the absorbing production values.
With frequent close-ups that attempt to lock us inside the character's psyche and drawing a completely different tension, the first English-language feature from Larraín is occasionally blurred by a deviant narrative. However, it’s still a solid and interesting watch. 
It became obvious to me that without Portman, “Jackie” would be at risk.