Set in Argentina during the mid-1970s, a successful, middle-aged lawyer’s picture-perfect life begins to unravel when a Chilean private detective comes to his seemingly quiet small town and starts asking questions.
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Benjamín Naishtat’s Rojo is a mystery thriller of sorts. That is, it comes across like a thriller, but remains fundamentally mysterious throughout, weaving a texture of loose ends and tantalizing enigmas.
Une mise en place scénaristique plutôt prosaïque, hormis la puissante scène introductive du restaurant, ne donne pas au spectateur, l'enthousiasme dénonciateur espéré. Ce ne sera que bien plus tard, souvent après la projection, que certaines ramifications entre personnages, histoires individuelles et collectives, ainsi que l'environnement politique et humaine, se mettront en place et en question. www.cinefiches.com
This is Argentina's Postmortment. I love Naishat's sense of subtly: the magician who makes workers' disappear... The American interference (the cowboys giving the politician a "whip"), the catholic Chilean who knows one thing or two about torture...
Unlike Chile and Uruguay, Argentine cinema is engaging in the clearing away of the ghosts of its Dictadura. Rojo, like the contemporary Wild Tales before it, has a tone which shifts from silence to rage, the latter eruptions of repressed memory. Rojo’s saturated reds and allegorical structure work for the most part, but its heavy-handed coda lacks the subtle coming dread one infers from The Secret in their Eyes.