Phhffffftt!
This film hits like a sledgehammer.
Based on the true story of Maixabel Lasa, whose husband was killed by ETA and whose subsequent work supporting victims of violence led her to meet with her husband’s killers.
Now. I am actually a bad one for going into a story like this, because films about the effects of violence only seem to recognise it as violence when it’s wielded by those deemed ‘illegitimate’ actors. State violence is omnipresent and invisible in the way that fish have no word for water, but those who use similar tactics against the state are violent. So my worry was that was how this would all be framed.
But Maixabel specifically pushed for the inclusion of victims of all violence, including those of police and state forces. In the aftermath of years of violence and the legacy of fascism, she wanted a rehumanisation in how people saw each other. After decades of entrenchment along dividing lines, of ‘them and us’ mentality, she wanted people to look forward, build something beyond repeating what had gone before. She’s actually an extraordinary woman.
And this film does an excellent job of paying homage to that. Maixabel is played beautifully by Blanca Portillo, and Luis Tosar gives an extraordinary performance as Ibon Etxezarreta, the man who pulled the trigger.
Arguably Tosar has the harder job, because his character starts from such an unlikeable place. He starts not just as a killer, but is shown jubilant and carefree in the immediate aftermath of the murder, while Maixabel and her teenage daughter have their lives ripped apart. Even at the trial, he is defiant, unrepentant, chest-thumping, spouting ideological slogans. But the film follows his character arc, as he slowly, step-by-step, reconnects to his own basic humanity. The war he is involved in, whether it is legitimate or illegitimate, whether you see him as a soldier or a terrorist, has done what it always does. It has blunted him to empathy, to his own trauma in the acts he was involved in, to the impact upon his own sense of self. As much as sorrow for the victims of his crime is a huge motivating factor, his repentance is as much a rejection of the person who he used to be. In being able to see the humanity of his victims, he is able to see it in himself once more.
Despite all the weight of politics, this film is at base a deeply personal drama between these two characters. And one that is full of hope for healing, not just for the victims who need it most, but a collective healing.
Breathtaking film.
GFF reviews 