Visões

Argentina's Dirty War and the regime of the Generals from 1976 to 1983 is one of the dark secrets of history and has been examined by poets, writers such as Colm Toibin (and here, Lawrence Thornton in his novel from which the film was adapted), and journalists. And yet the silence about this period of time is deafening, especially since the amnesty this past June releasing the perpetrators from all responsibility of this terrifying activity and time in Argentina. Now, with the current 'silencing' of our own covert CIA activities and tortures in the name of a fight against terrorism, this overlooked film takes on particular potency. And for whatever reasons the film doesn't succeed as a great movie, at least it is a red flag bravely waving.

In 1976 the intellects, professors, journalists and writers began disappearing, kidnapped, taken to secret hideaways, tortured, raped, and disposed of all in the guise of protecting the viability of the military regime. Carlos (Antonio Banderas) runs a children's theater and is married to Cecilia (Emma Thompson) who writes articles about the "desaparecidos" despite the warnings from Carlos and their close friends Silvio (Rubén Blades) and Esme (Maria Canals). Their daughter Teresa (Leticia Dolera) is a young girl who is conflicted about the feelings of her parents in this scandalized government. Cecilia is abducted, becomes one of the dreaded desaparecidos, and Carlos commits himself to finding her. He discovers he has clairvoyant powers and holds meetings in his garden to help parents and loved ones of the desaparecidos to cope. Working with Teresa he tries to envision Cecilia's whereabouts and the film's dénouement and conclusion deal with this breathless seeking.

The acting if good as expected from this cast. The direction is fast paced, but the problem is one of distance from the passion of Carlos. For some reason Banderas elected to keep such a low profiles that his desperation to find Cecilia is somewhat muted. But as stated above the real success of this fine little film is the message it carries and that message is too close to home to ignore. The musical score and cinematography (and the incidental wonderful Tango dancing) are superb. Recommended. Grady Harp

The first thing I'd like to say is I've been reading people's comments about this movie, and I'm really touched at how much people round the world know about the worst period in Argentinian history. As regards the movie itself, I wouldn't like to disrespect anyone, but I think it is a lousy portrayal of real events. I agree with someone that the title allows for the viewer to expect a free interpretation rather than an accurate historical account. I disagree with someone about the images of torture being too many and too cruel. I think they were too soft. I've seen at least twenty Argentinian movies dealing with this topic (actually, I'd say nine out of ten Argentinian movies have at least one referent to it). The point is, no one can make a movie about "El Proceso" but an Argentinian citizen. It's nothing to be proud of, but it's our burden. I didn't have anyone missing, but I grew up with this, and it'll never be over for us. I understand the good intentions of everyone involved in this movie, and I think it's important that people in other countries let the world find out what happened here, but if you really want to know, you should see local accounts, without fake accents (subtitles are not that bad once you get used to them). Oh, and just for the record, the oppressors were ten times more somber and disgusting than what the movie shows. Most of them still feel the same way about everything they did, and as someone said, justice in this country is a lost cause. I just pray it never happens again. Thanks for reading.

Imagining Argentina (2003)

The story, and the facts behind the story, of innocent people being kidnapped, tortured, and killed in Argentina is so disturbing and emotionally draining it's hard to see this movie objectively. I wish it was a better movie, both in its construction (the filming and editing) and in the storytelling decisions (too much emphasis on empty searching, and too much torture, even after we get the point).

Cruelty needs no sympathy, and this movie gives it none. But it gives it attention, offering only a solution in perseverance and romantic love. There are lots of evocative scenes of dancing and music, of wide open countryside, and of warmly lit interiors. It paints a picture of a beautiful country with a beautiful culture, just to show how a small tilt in a great place can turn to horrors.

The final statistics of all the people "disappeared" under the Argentine dictatorship is an indictment of cruel dictators. The movie serves to remind us, and to paint the horrors, and it goes half way. I wish it had been a poetic, or raw, or inventive success as well.

Imagining… arrived with a fair degree of controversy, having been booed, heckled and subject to walkouts at 2003's Venice Film Festival. By saddling an infamous chapter in Argentina's history with a supernatural slant – Sixth Sense meets Missing, perhaps – many critics thought this was altogether a bridge too far. But was the reaction justified? It rather depends on whether you prefer your politics served up in an allegorical sauce or red and dripping on the bone. An adaptation of Lawrence Thornton's award-winning novel, the story begins in 1970s Buenos Aires, with dissident journalist Cecilia Rueda (a waveringly-accented Thompson) kidnapped by the fascist junta to join the ranks of the 30,000 'Disappeared'. As her bereft theatre-owner husband Carlos (Banderas) searches in vain, he develops psychic powers, enabling him to witness what happened to his wife and her fellow detainees. Laying his hands on their relatives he glimpses horrifying images of torture, rape and death at the military's hands, galvanising a traumatised public into motioning the government. In Thornton's magic-realist hands, Carlos's clairvoyance was a metaphor for the struggle against state repression, as he 'imagines' scenarios running counter to the official line: 'if you live in a nightmare, you have to re-imagine it.' While playwright-turned-director Christopher Hampton (who also wrote the screenplay for The Quiet American) cannot hope to replicate the novel's tender touch – the voyage from page to screen being a tricky one at best – the intentions are heartfelt, and the film does make salient points about the importance of empathy and memory as powerful and long-reaching political instruments in themselves.

This was truly enjoyable movie in many ways.

The acting was great all around. Powerful emotions were realistically portrayed by seasoned actors, relative newcomers and unknown extras alike. Direction, filmography and locations really come together to set a scene more realistic than most films even aspire to.

This film succeeds in projecting, through the characters, the full range of emotions that any individual must feel when their freedoms are seriously undermined by a corrupt ruling power, the same power that they would normally look to to resolve such issues.

This is not a feel-good movie, and anyone expecting comic relief at any time may be disappointed. This movie sets out to instill feelings in the audience that may help them to relate to the people in the story. It does not abuse concepts such as violence in order to get a kick out of the audience.

Unfortunately, many of those who have posted comments on this movie have failed to grasp part of the point. This is not merely a movie designed to remind the viewer of the past. It intends to remind the viewer that such actions continue to occur worldwide, and that it is only the people themselves who can keep their governments from resorting to such inhumane measures, by reminding their rulers repeatedly that they will not stand for it, in their country or any other.

Frankly, it disturbs me that films this deep go virtually unnoticed by the masses, while flashy but hollow explosion-fests receive awards.