El Conde: The shocks and thrills of vampiric political satire
Fifty years ago this month, Chilean President Salvador Allende was murdered by a cabal of conservative military officers with backing from American intelligence. One particularly ambitious officer, Captain General Augusto Pinochet, declared himself the nation’s new President and ruled until his removal from power in 1990. The Pinochet regime was dedicated to suppressing political dissent: Around 3,000 critics of Pinochet were executed during his time in power, and another 3,000 “disappeared” never being seen again. The regime established mass internment camps for Pinochet opponents, where over 80,000 Chileans were held and tortured; all the while, Pinochet exploited state resources to enrich himself and his family. Pinochet was arrested in 1998 for his myriad human rights violations, yet was released due to his poor health and died of natural causes in 2006, never having seen the inside of a jail cell.
Released earlier this month, Chilean director Pablo Larraín resurrects Pinochet on the silver screen in his new political satire El Conde, or “The Count.” Larraín is best known to American audiences for his biographical films Jackie and Spencer, starring Natalie Portman and Kristen Stewart, respectively. Larraín portrays Pinochet, played by 87-year-old Chilean film and television veteran Jaime Vadell, as a 250-year-old vampire who seeks the release of death.
Filmed in gorgeous black-and-white cinematography, El Conde shows Pinochet living on a lonely island off the coast of Chile in a moribund complex filled with relics of past military glories, alone, except for his wife Lucía and his former torturer of political prisoner/ butler, Russian émigre Fyodor, respectively, played by Gloria Münchmeyer and Alfredo Castro.
The story follows the news of Pinochet’s desire for death spreading, allowing the real vampires to come to roost, as Pinochet’s squabbling flock of adult children descend onto the remote island in the hopes of getting one last taste of the family fortune, all while accompanied by a mysterious accountant, Paula Luschinger, who believes she may be able to save the elderly dictator’s soul.
To put it bluntly, Larraín’s film has no particular interest in trading in subtleties, which is not necessarily to the work’s detriment. The ruthless dictator who exploited his nation’s wealth is rendered a literal bloodsucker, an immortal counter-revolutionary who has killed on behalf of conservatism since the French Revolution. Larraín makes no pretensions of doing anything other than hitting you over the head with his message, but in an era dominated by so many who seek to obscure the truth or downplay the crimes of the Pinochet regime, brutally blunt honesty is often appreciated.
On a similar note, El Conde is a film that often places more trust in imagery and sensation rather than the immediacy of the plot or the revelation of information. With its haunting black-and-white landscapes and classically-infused soundtrack, El Conde is beyond happy to let the audience soak in its bleak mood!
The film is anchored in Vadell’s superb lead performance as Pinochet, who successfully threads the needle in portraying the many facets of the fictionalized dictator. He shows the Captain General as someone glibly removed from humanity and its morals, simultaneously embracing and denying the severity of his past crimes.
Vadell’s Pinochet seeks release from his eternal life but also feels increasingly drawn to starting anew somewhere with the same reactionary fervor. The film also takes care to show the different sides of the old man: there is some pleasure in seeing this dictator as a bloated and confused elderly man, wearing battered sneakers and a Members Only jacket, as he struggles across his home in a walker, while maintaining a visceral fear in seeing Pinochet dawn full military regalia, stalking Santiago and consuming the hearts of it people.
If there is a strong criticism to be made of the film, it is in its third act twist. Not to give anything away, but it feels like the twist is too far out of left field compared to the rest of the film’s proceedings. The movie’s on-the-nose nature somewhat transforms what could be biting satire into what feels more like Larraín and his co-writer Guillermo Calderón slapping you on the head and going, ‘Get it?’.
Despite this weakness, El Conde manages to stick the landing with its ending, featuring a grimly humorous series of betrayals and bloody deaths, before finally revealing the new form of the old monster. Despite some of its third-act weaknesses, El Conde is worth your time, with a razor-sharp political and historical wit and a gothic atmosphere strong enough to smooth over the aforementioned faults. Also, in current times, when so many feel that our national leaders are decrepit bloodsuckers themselves, it can be therapeutic to see that frustration given voice.
Please don’t skip out on this unique and satirical film! You can stream El Conde on Netflix exclusively!