Film Review: NO

The setting is Chile, the year is 1988.  Finally conceding to international pressure, brutal dictator General Augusto Pinochet is forced to hold a referendum on whether he should remain in power, with the citizens of Chile called to the ballot boxes to vote simply with either yes or no (SI or NO).  In the run up to this plebiscite, there will be an advertising campaign from both sides of the SI/NO divide, with each given a fifteen minute slot every evening to argue their case on international television.

Pablo Larrain’s new film, NO, deals with the concluding chapter of Pinochet’s fifteen year reign of terror, but this is far from a cinematic portrayal of atrocity akin to what we are used to seeing in depictions of dictatorship such as The Last King of Scotland or Downfall.  Instead, Larrain chooses to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel by pushing Pinochet into the background, in his place, bringing us face to face with the people responsible for running the advertising campaign that sought to convince the people of Chile to vote NO.

At the forefront of the campaign is Gael García Bernal’s René, who decides against running a series of negative adverts highlighting the many murders, imprisonments, exiles and mysterious disappearances for which Pinochet was to blame.  In their place, René proposes to pitch the wonders of democracy like it was Coca-Cola, with saturated clips of people dancing and laughing and singing for a better tomorrow.  Bizarrely, this seems to work: the slogans catch on and the future looks bright, but will the entire vote transpire to be a sham? Is René’s life now in danger?  The pen may perhaps be more powerful than the sword, but is it more powerful than an entire army of guns, tanks, and artillery all in furious favour of their fearless leader?

Larrain’s film is shot through an aged filter that makes the entire narrative seem like archive reels from the film’s period setting; with occasional seamless reverts to genuine footage of the era.  This proves to be a very powerful cinematic weapon, with the harsh grainy filmstock and naturalistic lighting making the events far more real and approachable than the glossy over-worked visuals of a typical period fodder, like Pearl Harbor. In addition, the acting is excellent across the board, with García Bernal’s screen presence typically mesmerising; his star quality is of the rare and special kind that is both glamorous and approachable.  Had the NO campaign merely ran footage of his teary baby brown eyes as he fears for his family then one would imagine they could have won overnight.

However, one main problem with the film lies in its inevitable lack of narrative tension; this is a common issue for all movies that serve as a historical account, whereby the fact that we are already aware from the beginning how it will end distils the potential for edge-of-the-seat suspense.  Furthermore, the film’s fidelity to its story on every level could either be seen as a great relief or its most striking flaw – Larrain refuses, commendably, to overdramatize the account by splitting it up into a typical tale of good vs. bad, or to overindulge the audience with bloody footage of riots and rebellion.  On the one hand, the fact that we are spared of the extent of the violence gives it a much greater impact in the rare occasions when it is shown.  On the other, we are never completely convinced of what is at stake, should Pinochet win the vote; at times the film feels more like an extended episode of Mad Men, or even a campaign for the winner of X-Factor.

All the same, the fascinating nature of the true story itself, that of a Dictator toppled by the sheer power of advertising, is enough to recommend this fitting tribute to democracy to anyone with an interest in politics, history, the power of the media or even just Bernal’s baby browns.

4/5 stars