Netflix And Chill: El Conde (2023)

There is, in my experience, no such thing as a Pablo Larraín film. For the past two decades he has been delivering stylish and thought-provoking fare, a lot of it making use of the dark and turbulent history of Chile, the country he was born in. While people may have already checked out his more mainstream fare, and I use that term in the loosest sense, I encourage everyone to happily explore his entire filmography. There are many treats waiting for you, including one or two films that are sadly forgotten already, or overshadowed by the major releases that revolved around giant historical figures (Jackie and Spencer).

If you want to go in to El Conde completely blind then I suggest you avoid any reviews or plot summaries, including this one. I don't write spoilery reviews, but I do believe that the central conceit of this film is good enough to keep secret from those who have yet to see it. I need to mention it here though, and you have to heed this as a spoiler warning.

El Conde is a very dark comedy that looks at history through a warped viewfinder, positing the idea that a number of infamous political figures were, in fact, vampires. The main one, the one that the film revolves around, is Pinochet. Yes, THAT Pinochet (played here by Jaime Vadell). He may be coming to the end of his life, despite trying to delay that moment for a long time already, and those around him start to bicker over what they might inherit. A young woman (played by Paula Luchsinger) turns up to conduct an audit, but it's quite obvious from the start that she is there to exorcise and kill The Count.

Written by Larraín and his long-time collaborator, Guillermo Calderón, El Conde is presented in gorgeous black and white, juxtaposing the grace and power of vampirism throughout with the cowardice and greed of Pinochet. Don't worry about this trying to turn the central figure into some kind of grand icon, even comedically. The film uses the nastier aspects of vampirism to make obvious comparisons with the ways in which those with power and money can use up people they view as being far beneath them, but it also uses that same power to show how everyone should be held to account (no pun intended). It's tempting to be seduced by someone who can offer you a taste of their power, but it never wipes out the memory of everything bad they have done, and everyone they have harmed or killed, to maintain their superiority, even if they are struggling to retain their physical strength and form in their old age.

Vadell is good in the central role, helped by the fact that his performance isn't required to be comedic. The comedy all comes from the use of the vampiric trappings, and the squabbling around him. Two of those people squabbling are played wonderfully by Gloria Münchmeyer and Alfredo Castro, both portraying the kind of people who are ultimately so often forgotten while they should really be viewed with the same disdain as the employers/partners they help stay in power. Luchsinger is very enjoyable, and the fact that her character isn't always very good at maintaining her obvious facade for being in the company of these people, or these monsters, provides a few extra laughs along the way. Other notable supporting players are Catalina Guerra, Amparo Noguera, and Stella Gonet, although I have to say that I think the focus on Gonet's character in the third act, and the reveal of her identity, is a mis-step that the film would have been better without. It's an all-too-easy joke that doesn't work as well as the rest of the film, dragging things down slightly when it starts to feel a bit too much like childish "wish-fulfilment".

Despite the fun of the idea and the lovely visuals throughout, this ends up being one of the weaker films from Larraín. It's good, and may be a strangely effective way for people to reconsider and reaffirm the evil committed by Pinochet, but it just errs slightly too much on the side of caution. That's understandable, but I cannot help thinking that both Larraín and Calderón could have given us something much more disturbing and effective, without weakening the dark comedy of the premise.

6/10

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Mubi Monday: Ema (2019)

Pablo Larraín is a director well worth seeking out, especially if you're only familiar with him because of the movie Jackie (which is good, but actually not up there with his best work). He has a habit of being able to take dark material and display it in a way that doesn't skirt around any central issues, but also manages to avoid seeming like a wallow in complete misery.

Ema is about a couple (Ema, played by Mariana Di Girolamo, and Gastón, played by Gael García Bernal) who find their relationship crumbling after they make the difficult decision to return the child that they adopted. They have to deal with the way other people now view them, as well as how their opinions of one another may have changed. Because, let's face it, what kind of person gives up and returns an adopted child?

As things start to develop, Ema and Gastón are shown to be struggling in figuring out their best way of moving forward. The former ends up leaning hard into a lifestyle of sexual freedom, encouraging Gastón to take a new partner, and you get the feeling that she processes the judgement of others by deciding not to care about what they think, eventually. There is, however, a point to her sexual journey, and it eventually becomes clear that Ema is trying to make things better, albeit in an odd way that is clear only to herself.

Larraín does a superb job, working from the script by Guillermo Calderón (who has worked with him before, over the past few years) and Alejandro Moreno, and he once again knows how to mix in some wonderful visuals, flawless central performances, and hints to the bigger picture without everything being revealed until the very last scenes.

Whether engaging in some energetic sex, some energetic dancing, or just looking disdainfully at others who are trying to make her feel ashamed, Di Girolamo is brilliant, and very watchable, in her role. She is the focus of almost every scene, and lifts the film with her presence. Bernal is as strong as ever in his main supporting role, especially in the scenes that show him releasing his barely-suppressed resentment.

Although it looks at the connection between adopted child and adopted parents, rather than biological family members, Ema feels as discomforting as We Need To Talk About Kevin in the way it explores a lack of automatic affection. It almost seems taboo, yet deserves the time and treatment given to it here. Despite the way in which things are worked out, the message of finding a way to reach a child, finding a way to bring people together and heal some fresh wounds, there's a surprisingly positive core buried beneath the anger, frustration, and lust.

8/10