REVIEWS
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History Of Fear Reviewed by Demetrios Matheou Along with the Greeks, Latin American directors seem to have cornered the market in dramas about contemporary society falling apart at the seams — particularly bourgeois society, undone by paranoia as much as a disgruntled underclass climbing over the walls of their gated communities. History Of Fear (Historia Del Miedo), an assured first feature by Argentinian director Benjamin Naishtat, has much in common with another recent debut, the Brazilian Kleber Mendonca Filho’s Neighbouring Sounds. Both films focus on the tensions between the haves and have-nots, teasing us with the threat of imminent violence; and both have a narrative boldness, building a sense of foreboding through abstraction and enigma. While Filho’s is ultimately the more accomplished film, History Of Fear ought to enjoy a similarly solid festival life, with some arthouse exposure. It is certainly one of the more invigorating Competition films of the Berlinale thus far. It starts in the air, as a helicopter flies over a drab suburban landscape, fires burning across it, while an unseen occupant barks out draconian dictates on a megaphone. The bottom line is eviction, though we never discover who is being warned. As a heatwave torments Buenos Aires, Naishtat unfurls a long succession of small scenes, apparently unconnected, though uniting to create a pervasive air of disquiet. In a fast-food outlet, a young man’s self-possessed charade freaks out the other
n 8 Screen International at Berlin February 10, 2014
Competition Arg-Fr-Ger-Uru-Qatar. 2014. 79mins Director/screenplay Benjamin Naishtat Production companies Rei Cine, Ecce Films, Vitakuben, Mutante Cine International sales Visit Films, www.visitfilms.com Producers Benjamin Domenech, Santiago Gallelli Cinematography Soledad Rodriguez Editors Andres Quaranta, Fernando Epstein Production designer Marina Raggio Main cast Jonathan Da Rosa, Mirella Pascual, Tatiana Gimenez, Claudia Cantero, Francisco Lumerman
customers; a security guard enters a home whose alarm is sounding for no reason, his rifle at the ready; a servant refuses to allow a stranger into an apartment building, the pair swapping violent expletives over the intercom; a naked, feral man attacks a car at a tollbooth; a hole is discovered in the fence of the gated community, as unexplained fires smoulder on the other side. In the background, the TV news confirms the sense of a society about to explode: in one story, a gunman fires at screaming crowds in the street; in another, brilliantly crazy item, we are told a group of people — angry at the failure of their “meteor story” to gain them free housing — have been beaten up on the orders of the mayor. A small group of characters forms lines of connection between the city, the gated community and the poor suburbs that surround it. Chief among them are a mother and son. The Uruguayan actress Mirella Pascual, best known for her masterclass in
deadpan misery in Whisky, brings a similar grey despair to Theresa, a cleaner who works in the city. Theresa’s son Pola, a groundsman at the gated community, is played by Jonathan Da Rosa, a dancer in his first acting role, whose impassivity would serve him well in the Greek weird wave. These two barely speak to each other, even when Theresa collapses from exhaustion and ends up in hospital. And Pola’s apparent alienation and pentup anger seem to hold the key to whatever escalation of violence might occur. That said, the middle-class children roaming around unsupervised are reminiscent of the young protagonists of another Argentinian film set within a gated community, Celina Murga’s A Week Alone; the threat to the smug al fresco diners at the climax of the movie could just as easily be from within. The sound design is one of the film’s most crucial components, whether the industrial hum that seems to follow Pola around, or the cacophony of yapping dogs, fireworks and their own screams that stoke the diners’ fears as the compound is plunged into darkness. Naishtat does such a good job of cranking up tension, that it is disappointing when he suddenly releases it. The film’s structure is so free-form that one cannot say it lacks a third act, per se; but at 80 minutes and with everything moving along with such wit, strangeness and menace, one cannot help wanting more.
Screen Score
★★★