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“At what precise moment had Peru fucked itself up?” Nobel Prize winning author Mario Vargas Llosa famously asks at the beginning of “Conversation at The Cathedral.”
In “Glaxo,” one of the most awaited of Latin American
films this year, director Benjamín Naishtat charts what he describes as the whole of Argentina’s loss of innocence, which again has its origins in 1950s dictatorship and is equally pervasive.
After the lighter turn of co-directing “Puán,” a “deliciously droll” makeover movie, said Variety, in “Glaxo,” which world premieres in Toronto’s Special Presentations, Naishtat returns to the disturbing collective psychology portrait of “Rojo,” charting the impunity of power — a cop, and the Glaxo corporation — and a tale of betrayals in its central coming of age section.
Set along three timelines — Florida, outside Buenos Aires, on June 6, 1956, and then Chivilcoy, a town in the sticks also outside the Argentine capital one year later and then in 1984.
In the first, with Argentina under military dictatorship, based on historical facts depicted by Argentine writer Roberto Walsh in a trailblazing example of a non-fiction novel — police commissioner Folcada arrests 12 men listening to a boxing match, and then is leaned on by his boss to make an example of them.
One year later, now a civilian and a wealthy ranch owner, Folcada has moved to Chivilcoy with his stunning wife, Negra Morcada (Lali Espósito, notable), dazzling four teen friends — Miguelito, Verdemann, “Bicho” and Lucio.
“This is the story of a betrayal,” says narrator Miguelito. In fact it’s the story of multiple endemic betrayals driven by the exercise of unaccountable power and the misjudgment of adolescence, under the weight of which four teens’ seemingly “Stand by Me” friendship unravels.
If “Rojo” was a “witheringly provocative examination of temporary moral eclipse becoming permanent moral apocalypse,” as Variety noted, “Glaxo” delivers a broader historical take on the same Argentinean dark ages.
It delivers a pedigree producer package as a production of Brazil’s RT Features (“Paper Tiger,” “I’m Still Here”), produced by Argentina’s Rei Pictures (“Zama,” “The Settlers”). The film is inspired by novel “Glaxo,” from the film’s co-writer, Hernán Ronsino, which was partly inspired in turn by Walsh’s “Operation Masacre.” This deep concern for heritage – historical, literary, cinematographic – is one of the film’s sources of emotion.
Variety talked to Naishtat before the Toronto world premiere of “Glaxo,” after which the film segues for its European bow in main competition at San Sebastián.
Two first questions. At the beginning of the “Conversation in The Cathedral,” Mario Vargas Llosa famously asks: “At what precise moment had Peru fucked itself up?” It seems that to a certain extent Hernán Ronsino and you in “Glaxo” are asking the same question about Argentina. Also Miguelito, the narrator, says “This is the story of a betrayal. It seems to me that this is the story of many betrayals….
Benjamin Naishtat: I think that’s a very good analysis of the film, and basically this reading is obviously connected to Hernán Ronsino’s novel. When I read the novel for the first time, two things struck me. First, its very austere style, almost like an American police crime novel, but also closely related to Argentine writer Rodolfo Walsh, the author of “Operation Massacre,” a book that has a strong connection to “Glaxo.” The film “Glaxo· also has a string connection to “Operation Massacre,” an underground film from 1973 by Jorge Cedrón, a filmmaker who isn’t very well known but who is very important in the mysterious history of Argentine cinema. I wanted to mention that because it’s important. But going back to your point, yes, I think it really is an open question for the audience.
To what extent does “Glaxo” suggest any answers?
Naishtat: I don’t think the film tries to give us an answer but it simply presents us with the question. As an audience member, I’m more interested in leaving with more questions than with simple answers. That’s what we tried to do with this project: generate questions in a historical echo going backwards, but posing possible hypotheses about when Argentina got screwed and also about Argentina’s present. I think we tried to analyze the current state of Argentina from a different angle and from a different perspective.
One possible hypothesis comes in the prologue, set on June 9, 1956, turning on Police Commissioner Folcada, which suggests the terrible impunity of power. The other might be the terribly limited prospects of people like Miguelito living in Chivilcoy, a town outside Buenos Aires, where the two latter parts of the film is set.
Naishtat: The impunity of power is a good point. It relates to your earlier question and is a good starting point in relation to what impunity means in Argentina. In fact, the historical episodes depicted in the prologue — historical episodes that occurred in 1956 — remain unpunished to this day. Those responsible for that massacre never had to pay a price for what they did.
Regarding Miguelito and his life opportunities, I do share your view, but it’s also related to the film being not only a thriller but melodrama and also a coming-of-age story. I personally love the coming-of-age genre. What’s fascinating is that it connects you to an age we’ve all lived through — adolescence — in which love, and even more so, falling in love, has a devastating power over you. Without knowing who we are, we already have the capacity to fall in love in a way that we will never again experience. And that’s dangerous. So I tried to play with those themes a little bit by telling a story about adolescent love.
You’ve mentioned genres. The film plays with their different registers and has multiple echoes from other films.
Naishtat: This is my second collaboration after “Rojo.” with cinematographer Pedro Sotero. “Rojo” was a language exercise in relation to thrillers and television from the ‘70s. “Glaxo” has three different languages in the same film. So we have a prologue, which relates to clandestine Latin American films from the ‘70s, filmed as if it was shot on Super 16mm, with texture, like using only a single lens, and with very precarious shooting and lighting conditions.
Then we have the main 1950s section, which tries to play with Italian and American melodrama, like films such as “A Place in the Sun” or “Giant” by George Stevens, which were strong points of reference for the images in that section. Then we have the film-noir section set in the 1980s, shot in CinemaScope with anamorphic lenses to generate maximum atmosphere, which honestly, was a lot of fun. We’re both huge cinephiles. Pedro and I love genre cinema, and I think we’re convinced that the future of cinema, if there is one, is a popular future, let’s say within the popular genres — being able to talk to the audience and bring complexity to popular genres. In other words, recovering the complexity that popular genres used to have in other eras.
The credits say that “Glaxo” is a production of Brazil’s RT Features produced by Argentina’s Rei Pictures. That speaks volumes of the comparative current state of the two countries’ film industries.
Naishtat: Yes. This is very important. As the film’s credits say, the producer of the film is Rodrigo Teixeira and his Brazilian production company RT Features and Rei Pictures is a minority co-producer on the Argentine side. The film was shot entirely in Brazil, which is very strange, because it’s set entirely in Argentina and so it was a very difficult decision for me. Rodrigo and I wanted to shoot it in Argentina, but the current state of Argentina made that impossible. The cuts and the freezing of public funding for the film industry have been brutal for Argentine cinema. There are fewer productions now and less of a presence in the major markets and the major festivals. And perhaps what will become even more evident in the coming years will be the total lack of promoting new talent and new voices. There used to be a very interesting generation making their first features not only in Buenos Aires, but in Córdoba, in other cities, in Patagonia — genuinely interesting voices. This government, which is waging an open war on culture in general, is, in my opinion, a fascist government, an enemy of culture, one that has no cultural politics whatsoever. It doesn’t even have conservative politics, it has no politics at all; the politics is that there are no cultural politics and this is derailing the life plans of many people.
I personally can keep working because, as you know, this is my fifth film and I’ve been able to secure financing in Brazil with Rodrigo Teixeira, or in France, or in other places. But if I had to start my career today, I’d have to work somewhere else. I wouldn’t be able to work in cinema, and this is what’s happening in Argentina, which is very sad. I think it’s important to call this out, because as you know, we’re a country with a great filmmaking tradition and it is now in very serious danger.
