Rojo review – Coen-esque noir under the regime

There is something of the Coen brothers in this gripping and thought-provoking Argentinian thriller, a filmic throwback that sets out to deceive its audience as it paints an ominous picture of a society drowning in complicity. Though some might be left cold by its lack of resolution, Rojo is a work best appreciated once you’ve gained a bit of distance from it.

Directed in the style of a ’70s crime drama by Benjamin Naishtat, Rojo unfolds as a noir-inspired mystery, played out in the months leading up to the real life 1976 coup that saw a military junta installed in Argentina. In this particularly gruesome period, countless citizens – most of whom were suspected of anti-government leftism – were taken from their homes, never to be seen again, branded by those they left behind as “the disappeared.”

Our story hinges on Claudio (played with smug charisma by Dario Grandinetti), a respected lawyer who enjoys a comfortable existence in spite of the cruel regime slowly creeping into every facade of his bourgeois world. Things change when he and his wife are violently attacked by a total stranger after a demoralising incident in a restaurant. The stark western landscapes and moral dilemmas of Blood Simple and No Country for Old Men spring to mind as Claudio is forced to make a decision that will affect the rest of his life. Or will it?

Rojo is a film built from meticulous, revealing little scenes that almost always fail to deliver on their narrative promises – intentionally so. Plot threads do not develop in as much as they fizzle out, change direction, or disappear entirely. In its emphasis on small details – some red herrings, some hinting at a larger historical picture – you never quite know where Rojo is headed, a unique thrill in and of itself. But in the film’s vanishing of threads, you sense Naishtat’s intent: things – or people – disappearing. Life going on. The middle-class normalising the horrors unfolding around them to the point that they, too, are guilty.

Despite hitting on a satirical tone at times, there is a real rage burning beneath the surface here – an attack on history that this film wants to juxtapose against the present day situation in Argentina. Yet the historical undercurrent in Rojo does not detract from the pleasures of its noir-inspired roots. There is fun to be had in the execution of seemingly banal events as densely-crafted set-pieces, all of which offer intrigue and beg for deeper analysis. Some – like a night out to a show in which a magician makes a girl “disappear” – are more obvious than others. Plenty stay with you, like a scene where Claudio takes his wife to the beach to escape a TV detective looking for a missing person as the entire country is bathed in the strange scarlet glow of an eclipse. It’s all tied together by way of impeccable period production design, retro-inclined cinematography, and an effectively uneasy yet jazzy musical score.

As though to dismiss your investment in its enigmatic story, Rojo‘s ending arrives at a point when it seems like there’s still at least thirty minutes left of material to unravel. Frustrating, yes – though highly fitting for the way it mirrors the lack of resolution experienced by those whose friends and relatives were “disappeared.” We cannot imagine their pain and confusion, but in choosing to end Rojo when he does, Naishtat makes his point and underlines it with thick, red brush strokes.

★★★★☆

By: Tom Barnard

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