When one considers the film’s title and the political climate that serves as its backdrop, specifically the 1973 Chilean coup d’état led by Augusto Pinochet (with U.S. backing), it should come as no surprise that life under a dictatorship would facilitate all manner of fear and paranoia. And while Manuela Martelli’s Chile ‘76 certainly delivers in this regard, it does so in a surprisingly low-key way that’s light on specifics but heavy on atmosphere. In truth, Chile ‘76 often plays more like a horror film than anything, despite its obvious political thriller mindset.
The film begins three years into Pinochet’s reign as well-to-do housewife Carmen (Aline Kuppenheim) plans what colors she’ll paint her family’s beach house. From the start, it’s clear that something is wrong with the world just outside Carmen’s bubble, but, as is often the case among any society’s affluent, ignoring the problem is easier than acknowledging your complicity in it.
Yet, despite the bourgeois blinders granted to her family and friends based on their social status, Carmen’s conscience begins to creep in as it becomes clear to her that beyond the walls of her comfortable life, good people are dying at the hands of a violent regime. This all changes one day when a local priest (Hugo Medina) asks for her help in caring for a young man named Elías (Nicolás Sepúlveda), a resistance member who’s been shot by Pinochet’s national police.
As Carmen’s worldview expands, so does her paranoia, and not unjustly. The political violence happening all over the country is plain to see for anyone who dares look, and once her eyes are open, Carmen has no road back to her comfortable and carefree life. In essence, we’re seeing her radicalization before our eyes, even if her contributions are small-scale compared to the vastness of the resistance against Pinochet’s dictatorship.
Where many directors would rest on expected thriller tropes and paint-by-numbers intrigue, Martelli elevates Chile ‘76 far beyond its obvious trappings by tapping into the visceral terror felt by Carmen as she begins to undertake small favors for Elías on behalf of the resistance. These minor excursions into danger are accentuated by an absolutely fantastic soundscape that belongs more to a gritty sci-fi horror film than to the story of a middle-class housewife in 1970s Chile. Without Martelli’s distinctive and thoughtful use of tone and score, Chile ‘76 is a mediocre political thriller with nothing much to say. But with them, it’s a near-terrifying dive into life-changing direct action.
James is a writer, skateboarder, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.