Alatriste

XVII Spanish Century is too rich to be told in two hours and a half, and that's what the film has tried. Perhaps too many characters that unable us to be identified with them. Alatriste is too many things in just one: the brave, the hard, the rebel, the lover, the good father... but far from us. I don't think it is Viggo's problem. If you read the novels you will find the same lack. Although we have expected more of this film, it would be unfair to say that this film is not worthy watching it. Actors are great, also wigs and customs (sometimes Spanish people cannot forget them without wigs!). Battles and photography are excellent. The films' atmosphere is much more better than other history films, the fog, the use of light. Go, watch it and make your opinion!

It's big-budget, it boasts extras by the planeload, and a broad historical panorama: it's all about intrigue, loyalty, love, and loads of a real man doing what a real man's gotta do. This is the Spanish film industry's most serious attempt yet to break into the mainstream international market, and Viggo Mortensen's brooding, laconic Alatriste makes a convincing bid for the job. A heroic figure despite himself, Alatriste is the poor bloody footsoldier whose unquestioning courage provided the flesh and blood foundations of the Siglo de Oro, the golden age of the early 17th Century when the Spanish crown laid claim to half of western Europe.

In scuffed boots and floppy fedora, Mortensen cuts an attractive figure in an amoral, down-at-heel sort of way: women are prepared to leave their husbands for him, men fight for the privilege of dying at his side. We are led, or perhaps bullied, on an epic sweep through the muck and bullets of Spain's military meddling in its neighbours' affairs, seen through the jaundiced eyes of Alatriste and his fellow hired hands. Death is a constant presence; if you're not torn apart by a cannonball on the battlefield, or knifed in a dark alley, it may well come for you in the shape of the Inquisition – and in which case, you might be better off cutting your own throat.

We cut frantically and frequently back to the Spanish court, where the grandees plot and connive, and we just know that someone inconvenient is about to get dispatched to the colonies at the very least. Here, Alatriste's glint-eyed soldier's determination gives way to the quizzical gaze of a hard man out of his depth, as matters of State are signed and sealed on oaken desks. Watch your back -- you get the impression that the most blood-sodden battlefield is a far safer place to be.

The film covers a massive swathe of turbulent European history, some three decades of a long Spanish Catholic struggle against the Protestant heretics of the Low Countries. And this, perhaps, is the film's greatest flaw – the screenplay is a pull-together of some of the most dramatic episodes from a clutch of Arturo Pérez-Reverte's Captain Alatriste books, and the joins show badly. Sub-plots come and go in a tangle, and the film develops its undoubted dynamism from a regular dripfeed of another bit of swashbuckling, or whispered courtly dirty deeds, rather than the convincing development of any interplay between the characters themselves. For such a valiant warrior, poor Alatriste doesn't seem to have much say in his destiny.

That said, the film looks fabulous, from the opening misty waterlogged shots off the Flanders coast, to the final crunching battle of Rocroi. Director of Photography Paco Femenia -- responsible for the similarly atmospheric Carmen and Juana la Loca -- takes his inspiration from the contemporary canvases of Velásquez to evoke an atmosphere painted in rich earthy tones; the camera conveys the glittering sterility of the Spanish court as tangibly as the dirt that Alatriste and his ever-dwindling band of chums are forced to eat – so often without pay -- to enable their lordships to live in the appropriate style.

The film, at two hours and 20 minutes, rattles along well, but is too long. If only director Augustín Díaz Yanes had the faith in the attraction and bankability of his lead character to take a deep breath, and slice the action up into more manageable chunks: a trilogy, even. Why not? Everybody else seems to be doing it, and so often with inferior material to this.

I enjoyed Alatriste; it's not your typical fast-paced Hollywood action flick (if you go see it expecting something of the sort, you'll probably be disappointed and bored) and the plot is not too clearly defined, but it has an excellent cinematography and costume design that recreate Velazquez's Spain, and most of the actors are very good. Mortensen is an awesome Capitán Alatriste despite his slight accent. You can see he took this role very seriously. He fits perfectly into the roguish, ruthless but noble character's skin. The sword fights are nicely choreographed. The atmosphere of seventeen-century Spain and the historical context are superbly recreated. Actually, I find there are interesting parallels between the decay of the Spanish Empire and present day United States, between the "tercios" and the US Marines.

I recommend this film highly to anybody who's interested in period films, or who likes Mortensen as an actor.

'Alatriste' is a film based in a series of novels by Arturo Pérez-Reverte (five until release time, with a sixth published four months later) which is hugely popular in Spain. But undoubtedly it was the news that Viggo Mortensen was to be playing the title character what put the project onto the international radar.

In fact, had it not been for Mortensen's acceptance of the role, the film would not have been made at all. Director Agustín Díaz Yanes, who also adapted the script, condensing the five novels into 134 minutes of action, said from the beginning that the film would be made only if a major movie star fronted it, and the search soon took him beyond the Spanish frontiers. To his credit, Mortensen accepted to follow up his stardom-achieving role in 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy (the clinching conversation for 'Alatriste' took place during the Berlin premiere of 'The return of the king' in December 2003) with a daring move that raised many eyebrows: starring in a non-English language film, and speaking his whole part in Spanish with his own voice, whose accent he had to change from the South American he knew since childhood to the Old Castillian his role demanded.

The film follows 40-something Diego de Alatriste y Tenorio through 20 years of his life, from the wars in Flanders in 1623 to those against France in 1643, when Spain, under king Philip IV, accelerated its decline from its position as the world's dominating superpower. The film is bookended by two spectacular feats of arms taken from each of these conflicts, but in the middle we get to know the man under the wide-brimmed hat and the long cloak. When not in the thick of the action, he has to make a living hiring his skills, and those involve killing for a few gold coins back in the dark corners of Madrid or Seville: not for people of his type the kind of glamourised glory depicted in victory-celebrating murals. Mortensen's portrayal - raspy voice, cold-eyed gaze and menacing professional manner - is every bit what the role demands, and his performance is one of the triumphs of the film.

However, he is not all there is, even if the hype has made it seem that Mortensen was all that mattered in the film. He is surrounded by a crew he has celebrated as being as fine as any he's worked with anywhere, and a cast of the best 'hidden' talent Spain has to offer (no Antonio Banderas or Javier Bardem here). Accompanying the 'tired hero', as he is described in the books, we have Unax Ugalde as Íñigo de Balboa, the young buck Alatriste raises in lieu of his dead father; Elena Anaya as Angélica de Alquézar, the scheming ladyservant of the queen; and Ariadna Gil as 'la gran actriz' María de Castro, Alatriste's luscious love interest. They form the heart of the film from the perspective of personal relationships. In none of their hearts love for each other is the only ingredient by any means, and negotiating their twists and turns can be as dangerous as avoiding sharp and pointy steel objects in the street. In fact, they don't stay sheathed indoors all the time either…

The rest of the painting is full of extraordinary nuances and details. And 'painting' is the right word, because none other than one of the greatest masters of the trade ever, Diego Velázquez, has been the visual inspiration for the film, with his grave palette of black and brown colours, a world away from the splendour and shine of previous and later historical films. Spain was wealthy on the outside but poor and rotten on the inside, and his paintings show this, as does the film. The novels mix the imaginary characters hitherto mentioned with real-life figures, and two of the supporting ones are brought to life directly from his canvases. These are Javier Cámara as the Count-Duke of Olivares, the mover and shaker behind the throne, and Juan Echanove as the writer and poet Francisco de Quevedo. The first one is, as can be expected, important to move the political plot forward, and the second might seem peripheral and time-consuming, but his picture and verses are in every school textbook in Spain, so for Spanish people these two play the important role of making Velázquez's paintings move and speak, bringing closer to home the other characters. It's been Pérez-Reverte's aim from the beginning of the saga to use Alatriste's stories to re-educate Spanish people in their own history, too neglected in recent years (see trivia section on this site) and this is a way of seeing what could have happened 400 years ago in the streets one can still walk today. Not for nothing the premiere was planned, old fashion style, in La Gran Vía, in the heart of El Madrid de los Austrias.

This is the first English review of the film ever written (as far as I know), fully one week ahead of the official Spanish release, so it is mostly introductory and I am not going into more details on purpose. Outside Spain, the film will be seen mostly in festivals, with foreign releases happening gradually towards Christmas 2006. Just to say that those who have read the books will find, as it usually happens, many changes among a genuine attempt to be faithful to the spirit of the original material, and that one thing you should avoid doing is seeing it under the shadow of 'The Lord of the Rings', because of Viggo, or under the shine of glossy Hollywood historical recreations full of dizzying light and colour. The scale is much smaller, the atmosphere darker and grittier, and sword master Bob Anderson, who crossed blades with the likes of Errol Flynn (not to mention humming lightsabres and Elvish-lettered weapons), has never been happier teaching people 'a matar, y mucho'.

Congratulations to the marketing department. I bit the hook and contributed my 6.5 Euros to this calamity. Awfully acted out sketches of what should have been characters, disastrous editing, horrible script, dreadful muzac, even the locations are terrible and terribly shot! What a sad joke. Worst of all: boring. Even the darkest epic needs some humor and wit. Quevedo on prozac? Let's forget about it and let the great man rest in peace. Sorry about that, Don Francisco. The premise was inspirational, the money was there, of course that alone does not produce another "Barry Lyndon", "Master and Commander", or "Unforgiven", not even "Cyrano", but at least I think we could expect something better than "Curro Jimenez", a Spanish TV series about andalusian "bandoleros". "Curro" turns out to be a grand epic when compared to this fiasco. 10.000 extras? Someone ran away with their paycheck or the dp forgot to bring the wide angle that day to fit them in. I firmly believe the problem is the same as always. The same "amiguetes" with their unresolved complexes, telling each other how great and daring the other is. Bring a friendly international Star to the mix (one that is acceptable because walks barefooted, drinks mate, and again, tells all the others how great they are and how great it is to be in such company) and see how it adds to the disaster. Viggo (as every amiguete "in the know" friendly calls him) can't pronounce a decent syllable, but he is, oh well... VIGGO, and that's what matters to our provincial "you are so great o' you" actors and director. I heard a few of the actors talking about how wonderful "Tano" (the director) had been on set, letting every one contribute and understanding how film making was a team effort. Yes, film making is a team effort, as well as a classical orchestra is, but IT NEEDS A DIRECTOR. Where were you Mr.Tano? If you ever have another chance (of course you will, you are an amiguete and a great guy), please at least DIRECT. Really "triste".