This film didn’t really work for me and I was surprised that it was selected for the Audience Award Competition. There were some good ideas behind the development of the project but they weren’t exploited effectively. Parabellum, as the title implies (transl. ‘prepare for war’), is about ways of tackling conflict and its aftermath. The film posits a world undergoing a never identified crisis manifest in random explosions as comets/bombs? fall from the skies and groups of people take advantage of the panic to start looting and rioting. There is only minimal dialogue as a random group of (presumably middle-class) people from the city is taken to a resort in the forest where we see them instructed in various forms of survival. Eventually they are deemed ready and those who have completed the training set off into the bush to ‘survive’. We don’t know what kind of ‘mission’ they might have been given.
The problem with the long training process is that it is so loosely edited with the inclusion of what seem like redundant or overlong shots that there is no tension or suspense, partly because it isn’t clear whether they are all expected to succeed. Is it a competition? We hear the training instructions but virtually nothing in the interactions between the recruits. When the ‘survivors’ finally get out into the river delta (which isn’t that far from Buenos Aires) things get a little weirder but not much. The trailer for the film includes some interesting images but it doesn’t convey the lacklustre appeal of the narrative. A posting on the film festival’s blog suggests all kinds of things about the film. Director Lukas Valenta Rinner and his collaborators Ana Godoy and Esteban Prado (who co-wrote the script) joined genuine Argentinian survival courses at the time of the 2012 ‘end of the world mania’. The lack of dialogue is a deliberate policy related to the experience of this preparation. The director was raised in Austria before moving to Argentina via Spain to study film and it seems that the film is inspired to some extent by the similarities between the Austrian middle-class and the Argentinian ‘upper middle-class’ (the director’s terms). If I’d read the blog before watching the film I might have been more disposed to support it, but at the end of a long day this film just didn’t grab me like the preceding four.
Trailer from International Film Festival Rotterdam:
This Cannes prizewinner (FIPRESCI and Critics Week Prizes) from 2015 has attracted critical attention across the festival circuit. I would hope it would get a UK release but I’m not sure it will. It would be a shame if it didn’t get widely seen outside the festival circuit (it is being distributed in the producing countries and Spain). GFF16 featured an Argentinian cinema strand, neatly spotting the growing importance of Argentina’s output (120 features in 2015), and Paulina was one of 10 films, old and new in the strand. Paulina is also the third of the films I saw to feature a teacher/care worker facing up to difficult students/clients.
Based on a significant 1960 film, La patota (‘mob’ or ‘gang’), director Santiago Mitre and his co-writer Mariano Llinás moved the action of the story from Buenos Aires to the border region of North-Eastern Argentina where Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil converge. This is an area where the forest has been cleared and re-planted with pine for lumber (see also the film Las acacias (Argentina 2011)). There is an indigenous population some of whom work in the sawmill and this community becomes the focus of the narrative.
Paulina is a highly-promising PhD law student and the film begins with a long argument she has with her father, a judge. He expects her to follow him into the judicial system but she wants to take direct action – giving up her studies and becoming a teacher of politics and civil rights in a school in the indigenous community. Dolores Fonzi as Paulina is an attractive and forceful young woman determined to do what she thinks is right. Her father and her boyfriend can’t dissuade her and she goes ahead. Paulina’s home region isn’t clear but she seems to come from somewhere not that far away from where she goes to teach.
Paulina makes all the mistakes of the untrained teacher, failing to get to know her students before she starts on quite complex classroom discussions/activities. Disaster is signalled very early on and after a night of drinking with another teacher who is trying to help her, Paulina is attacked on her way home by four young men and raped by one of them. The director uses flashbacks to give a different perspective on some of these events. The important outcome of the rape is that Paulina decides not to seek to prosecute the men and also to return to her teaching job when she leaves hospital. She didn’t see her attackers but knows that they are connected to her students in some way. Later she finds she is pregnant. The narrative’s main concern is to locate Paulina’s political views which compel her to do what she feels is best for the indigenous people of the community, including her students. In doing this she will have to fight her father, who claims himself to be progressive and leftist but believes she is making the wrong decisions.
Reviewing the film after its Cannes screening, Variety‘s Ben Kenigsberg suggests that Paulina’s decision turns the film into a “pointed intellectual exercise” and a flawed filmic narrative. He suggests that most audiences will side with the father. This is indeed a pointed political rather than intellectual exercise, made stronger by the flaws in Paulina’s original approach (she is both naïve and arrogant in her liberal ‘mission’) and her father’s seemingly logical argument. However, he oversteps the mark and some audiences will recognise that Paulina is correct in that the authorities will mistreat any suspects that she identifies. But what about Paulina’s emotional state? For the narrative to have any credibility (and therefore to carry through a political discourse) requires that Dolores Fonzi performs to a very high standard – and I think she does. And the film deserves its chance to convince us.
Just a reminder for subscribers. Reviews of interesting films, mainly from outside the US/UK and Western Europe, are also to be found on our sister site at globalfilmstudies.com
Recent posts include:
Jauja (Argentina-Denmark 2014)
Stones for the Rampart (Poland 2014)
The Salvation (Denmark/UK/South Africa 2014)
OK Kanmani (India 2015, Tamil)
Nominated for the Palme d’or and Argentina’s Oscar entry as well as receiving many other nominations and awards globally, Wild Tales has had an extensive release in the UK. Does it live up to this star billing? Did I laugh? Does the film have anything to say? Well, ‘perhaps’, ‘yes’ and yes, but . . . This is what is sometimes described as an ‘anthology’ or ‘portmanteau’ film. There are several different variations of this form. In this case there are six tales by the same director. I’m not sure that they are all ‘wild’. They do all involve forms of violence, some much bloodier than others. There is also a loose theme of ‘getting even’. It’s inevitable that with six films some will work better than others. I think I’d score this as 4 out of 6 with the first two the weakest.
In some of the stories the ‘getting even’ is directly related to social class distinctions and it’s always good to see the ‘little person’ get one over the bourgeoisie. But here that doesn’t always happen and a couple of the stories are driven by a relentless logic in which individuals are gradually worn down. In the end, the only thing that links all of the films is the sense of Argentinian society as being riven by all kinds of anti-social behaviour or clear injustices. I suspect that there were some nuances I didn’t get and that for Argentinian audiences the tales are more clearly linked together than I realised.
Some of the events depicted have a delicious black humour, others are more tragic. The film does, I think, invite audiences to indulge in assumptions about national characteristics. Male characters are arrogant and macho, some women are beautiful and haughty. And their opposites seem to be there to create the conflict – so the unattractive woman defeats the powerful man etc. The one star I recognised was the almost ubiquitous Ricardo Darin who appears as the ‘little man’ brought low by bureaucracy. But he’s an explosive expert . . . The tale that worked the best for me concerned a hit and run driver. This is in some ways a universal tale of wealth and corruption with a shock ending. I won’t spoil the enjoyment of any of the other tales but the film has been lucky/unlucky that the first tale relates directly to a recent news story and some cinemas have warned customers who might have found the link distasteful.
I think that my reluctance to embrace the film as completely as others have done is down to my general lack of interest in short narratives over longer ones. There are several other portmanteau films discussed on this blog. 7 Days in Havana is a less consistent film than Wild Tales but it does offer short films in different styles by different directors and in the end I personally found that more interesting. On the other hand, Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow offers three different stories by the same director which together say something about a particular society. The writer-director of Wild Tales, Damián Szifrón, does a good job in presenting the narratives but I didn’t notice anything particularly different in terms of style between the six separate stories (other than their generic roots). In some ways his film appears more like Hollywood anthology films than the European tradition of portmanteau films.
I did enjoy Wild Tales and I would recommend it as a film from one of the most vibrant film industries. My main concern is why it was so highly promoted where other foreign language films of similar quality are often restricted to a limited distribution. Violence and comedy are deemed to be saleable as a combination I guess – and the film is co-produced by the Almodóvars, Augustín and Pedro. Almodóvar is still a name that means something to UK audiences.