Loving the films of Pablo Larraín means appreciating a singular kind of cinema: politically sharp, psychologically complex, and visually unforgettable. If you’ve exhausted his catalog, here are seven hidden gems that hit those same notes.
The Official Story (1985)
For those who
appreciate the political gravity of Larraín’s Pinochet-era films like 'No' and 'Post Mortem', this Argentine masterpiece is essential viewing. It follows a well-to-do history teacher in Buenos Aires during the final days of the military dictatorship as she begins to suspect her adopted daughter may be the child of a 'disappeared' political prisoner. The film, which won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, masterfully connects the personal to the political, exploring the horror of state-sponsored terror through one woman's dawning consciousness. It’s a gut-wrenching study in complicity and denial that feels like a direct spiritual ancestor to Larraín’s explorations of Chilean trauma.
Dogtooth (2009)
If you're drawn to the claustrophobic power dynamics and psychological control in 'The Club' or the absurdist horror of 'El Conde', then Yorgos Lanthimos's breakout film is a perfect, if disturbing, match. It centers on a family whose adult children have been raised in complete isolation, with their parents inventing a new vocabulary and a false reality to keep them contained. The film’s deadpan, stilted tone creates a world that is both horrifying and bizarrely funny, dissecting themes of manipulation and confinement with a surgical precision Larraín fans will recognize. It’s a disquieting look at a self-contained world built on lies.
Post Tenebras Lux (2012)
Director Carlos Reygadas delivers a film that operates on pure, visceral feeling, much like Larraín’s more dreamlike works. A wealthy family relocates to the Mexican countryside, where class tensions and inner demons bubble to the surface. The narrative is fragmented, jumping between memories and fantasies, including an unforgettable scene with a glowing red devil. With a unique visual style that blurs the edges of the frame, the film creates a disorienting, hypnotic effect. For viewers who appreciate Larraín’s willingness to abandon convention for emotional truth, this enigmatic and visually stunning film is a challenging but deeply rewarding experience.
Shirley (2020)
Fans of 'Spencer' and 'Jackie' know that Larraín excels at the anti-biopic, using a famous life not to recount history, but to create a psychological pressure cooker. 'Shirley' does just that for the horror author Shirley Jackson. Starring Elisabeth Moss, the film imagines a period where a young couple moves in with Jackson and her husband, becoming entangled in the writer’s volatile and brilliant mind. It's less a story about her life and more an impression of her genius, capturing her agoraphobia, creative cruelty, and the oppressive social structures she railed against. The film is a thrillingly horrible portrait of a female artist finding inspiration in madness.
The Second Mother (2015)
While less surreal than Larraín's work, this Brazilian drama offers the same sharp critique of class structure that runs through his Chilean films. The story follows Val, a live‐in housekeeper who has raised her wealthy employer's son while being estranged from her own daughter. The household's unspoken social order is upended when Val's confident and ambitious biological daughter, Jéssica, arrives to study for her university entrance exams and refuses to adhere to the rigid boundaries of servitude. The film is a quiet, powerful, and often funny examination of class, family, and personal liberation that resonates with Larraín's social conscience.
The Death of Louis XIV (2016)
This film takes the claustrophobia of 'Spencer' to its absolute extreme. Director Albert Serra focuses entirely on the last days of the Sun King, confined to his bed as gangrene consumes his leg. Legendary French New Wave actor Jean‐Pierre Léaud gives a monumental performance, portraying the slow, undignified decay of a figure who was once the center of the universe. The film is a meticulous, almost painterly chamber piece, lit by candlelight and populated by helpless doctors and courtiers. It demystifies power by showing it at its most frail and mortal, a theme that echoes through Larraín’s portraits of powerful, broken people.
Embrace of the Serpent (2015)
Shot in stunning black and white, this Colombian film has the mythic and historical weight of 'Neruda' or 'El Conde'. It follows two parallel journeys, thirty years apart, of an Amazonian shaman guiding two different Western scientists through the jungle in search of a sacred, healing plant. The film is a poetic and blistering critique of colonialism's destructive impact on indigenous cultures and the environment. Its dreamlike quality and non‐linear narrative create a haunting exploration of memory, loss, and the clash of civilizations, making it a perfect companion piece for Larraín’s own cinematic journeys into the ghosts of history.
