Monos

Growing up is never easy – but it is even tougher if you’re a member of a member of a paramilitary squad in the remote and wild countryside. Winner of the top prize on both the international fiction competition at this year’s Sundance, where it premiered, and the official competition at the London Film Festival earlier this month, the production follows the titular people – a group of youngsters who are part of a shadowy entity known only as The Organisation. When not receiving an intensive and vaguely ritualistic physical training, they are responsible for guarding one of its prisoners as well as a milking cow.

One day, trouble besets the group. First, one of them accidentally kills the cow, with the subsequent cover-up operation disrupting their sense of mutual trust. Then, in this agitated state of mind, a military advance from the Organisation’s adversaries forces them to abandon their usual post and hide in the dense jungle. From this point on, tensions escalate and, soon enough, allegiances are put to the test.

Away from society, their only link to the outside world is their American hostage, with whom they don’t speak much due to a language barrier. In the wilderness, galvanised by their belief system of their superiors, they make up their own social behaviour, sometimes defying gender norms and allowing for a free exploration of their sexuality. For all his masculinity and bravado, Bigfoot (Moisés Arias) is shown wearing fishnet stockings during a party. There’s enough to suggest that young lad Rambo (Sofia Buenaventura) has a crush on fellow squad member Wolf (Julián Giraldo) and some sexual tension runs in the interactions between Swede (Laura Castrillón) and Doctor.

All of this takes a back seat when their relationship with each other starts to crumble. With the pulsating score by composer Mica Levi setting the tone, the fallout of the group brings to mind William Goulding’s novel Lord of the Flies with, with the individual needs of each member overshadowing collective goal. Bigfoot clearly wants power, Swede wants attention, Rambo wants comfort, and so on. Severed from everyone, including their military leaders, they dive into anarchy.

At turns, the feature resembles a less operatic Latin American answer to Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979). However, the way Landes uses the jungle as a major visual component in his protagonists’s psychological breakdown shares a lot more with fellow Colombian Ciro Guerra’s trippy Embrace of the Serpent (2016) than with Francis Ford Coppola’s classic.

Ultimately, Monos uses the growing pains of the group as a backdrop to an intense thriller that leaves a lasting impression. It is out in cinemas across the UK on Friday, October 25th. On VoD on Monday, February 17th.

The Tower (La Torre)

On March 17 2004, a real explosion took place at the Piloto Public Library of Medellín, where large chunks of the photographic archive of Colombian history is located. The only piece of evidence of this unexplained act of vandalism is a single photograph.

Visual artist Sebastián Múnera chooses to angle and stylise his directorial debut in a number of unsettling black and white frames. This is a film that incurs feelings of rage and pity, the barbarism of material destruction displayed through the eyes of those who have witnessed it. Múnera does not discriminate perspectives: the shaking hands of elderly people is contrasted with the feted exasperation of the young men who find the barren, deserted area. Múnera took his creative muse from the sole remaining snap, and uses his camera as the main character in order to watch a community regain itself.

Feelings come through cryptic voice-overs, as the three main characters (librarian Gloria, construction worker Neyder and photographer Jorge) attempt to find answers. Yet, this is not a documentary in the traditional sense. Given the irresolvable nature of the real life case, the three people are left with ambiguous answers. Múnera chooses to leave the camera to display the events, inviting the audience to witness these characters rebuild themselves, subverting ordinary narrative tropes with inconclusive answers. Reality gives few resounding answers.

The black and white palettes are unsettling. There is a flurry of panning shots, razor window reflections, plus a number of exterior shots – as men and women comfort each other in silence. Behind this set-up, interior voiced lines such as “I have never been capable of remembering dreams nor retaining images” sound particularly fatalistic. The destruction of much of the Colombian Historical photographic archive raises a sobering question: if humans are only human by their memories, what happens when physical memories are set alight?

At under 80 minutes, this is a journey that does not outstay its welcome, bringing its audience on a long-haul trip to Colombia in order to witness an incident few outside the country knew about. And fittingly, it’s beautiful, grainy and, best of all, human.

The Tower is showing at the Rotterdam International Film Festival, but you too can watch it at home before February 20th, in an initiative by Festival Scope. But hurry up, there are only 200 tickets per film!

The Nobodies (Los Nadie)

The Audience Award of the 31st Venice International Film Critics Week goes to Latin America. Colombian film The Nobodies, directed by Juan Sebastian Mesa, places the spotlight of the Film Critics Week again on a Latin American young talent, 17 years after the widely acclaimed Argentinian director Pablo Trapero won the same accolade.

Shot in black and white and full of heavy metal songs and attitude, The Nobodies centres its narrative on a group of street artists planning to embark on a runaway road trip, leaving behind their tedious lives. The lyrics of the heavy metal tunes played by Pipa and his band elucidate their frustration. The system oppresses them, capitalism sucks, and so it’s time for a revolution, a new solution.

The film investigates the personal stories of the five young people (pictured above), and what triggered their revolt. Medellín is shining and teeming with activity, and yet their future does not look very promising. Some of them work as street artists in order to make pocket money. And somehow they feel that they don’t belong in their own homes.

Mesa creates an urban tale. Colombia is not an exotic location struggling the drug gangs. The director dodges stereotypes, and instead he gets very closer to the urban tales and dramas that the centre of big Latin American cities face – including Medellín, Buenos Aires, Mexico City and São Paulo. Latin America is somehow unified and its cruel social issues. But the film is not cruel itself. It’s instead smooth and full of hope for this generation.

The Nobodies has a linear and yet peculiar narrative. Audiences will notice many clever creative choices. The five main characters were very good choices for their parts, as well as the anarcho-punk universe the film is set in. This film will give much impetus to both marginalised young people and emerging filmmakers in Colombia.

The Colombian film The Nobodies won the Film Critics’ Week prize at the 73rd Venice Film festival in 2016, when this piece was originally written. The movie was completed in just seven days and with a budget of less than $2,000. The film is showing in September 2017 at the Raindance Film Festival of London.