Borensztein’s Kóblic seeks new outlook on the last military dictatorship’s death flights
POINTS: 7
Kóblic, the new film by Argentine filmmaker Sebastián Borensztein (La suerte está echada, Un cuento chino) tells a story bound to deeply touch viewers because of the ominous scenario it unfolds in. The film’s title refers to Tomás Kóblic (Ricardo Darín), a military pilot in charge of one of the many planes used in the infamous death flights that took place during the last military dictatorship. In these flights, a large number of disappeared men and women were thrown alive from military planes into the sea to an abominable death.
Kóblic knows very well that his refusal to be a part of such a macabre scheme will get him into a lot of trouble and may even cost him his life. So he flees Buenos Aires to hide in a God-forgotten small town where he gets help from a longtime friend. He also meets Nancy, an attractive young woman with an aggressive ex-lover. And though Kóblic keeps his identity secret, the more time he spends in the town, the more complicated his situation gets as Velarde (Oscar Martínez), a corrupt and violent chief of police, and his friends start to find out who he really is.
It’s commonplace to say that Ricardo Darín and Oscar Martínez are accomplished actors, and yet it’s true to the point that their performances make a difference in an otherwise merely correct feature.
Borensztein’s new opus is very well-directed at all levels, from cinematography to editing, and from art direction to sound design. For instance, there’s an unsettling, menacing feeling throughout the story, with some dramatic high points such as the confrontations between Kóblic and Velarde. For the most part, there’s an engaging pace and the screenplay is executed with precision. The thing is, Darín’s and Martínez’s characters are the most important elements to anchor the entire drama and their compelling performances give the film a distinctive air of authenticity.
From a narrative standpoint, Kóblic is both a thriller and an intimate drama. As a thriller, it works fine to a certain point, more precisely halfway into the story, when it rather drags a bit as it’s easy to see what’s coming.
But in the last third of the film, the story gains momentum and suspense, and the ending is pure poetic justice. As a drama, Kóblic is unnerving, to say the least. Guilt-ridden, fearful, but also determined not to give up, Kóblic’s feelings and thoughts are often not that clear to viewers and this ambiguity is welcome. After all, we’re talking about a complex character going through a crisis of conscience amid one of the worst periods in Argentine history.
On the minus side, the subplot involving a romance between Kóblic and Nancy is underwritten — as is the character of Nancy — and so it doesn’t really add much to the core of the film. Had it not been included, the film would’ve been the same. Or perhaps it would have had a tighter focus on the drama faced by Kóblic. In a way, the romance is a mere distraction.
The nature and effects of the last military dictatorship have been approached many times, and now Borensztein has found quite an original approach to talk about it from the perspective of an insider who dares not follow the orders he’s been given. Not necessarily a hero, but instead an antihero struggling against all odds.
Production notes:
Kóblic (Argentina, Spain, 2016). Directed by Sebastián Borensztein. Written by Sebastián Borensztein, Alejandro Ocon. With Ricardo Darín, Oscar Martínez, Inma Cuesta. Cinematography: Rolo Pulpeiro. Editing: Pablo Blanco and Alejandro Carrillo Penovi. Running time: 92 minutes.
@pablsuarez
