Tony Manero DVD Review

Foreign language films can be exceptionally revealing, especially when they touch on socio-political issues. When the nation in focus is Chile, in 1978, when the CIA-funded General Pinochet was at the pinnacle of his horrific powers, this film, ‘Tony Manero’, draws some fascinating parallels between the dictator and the dance-floor hero.

You see, this exceptionally edgy drama, which features Chilean actor, Alfredo Castro, playing exquisitely the title role of Ral Peralta, deals with the very run-down atmosphere of the country’s capital city, Santiago de Chile. He is a man obsessed by the lead character from the film ‘Saturday Night Fever’ and he leads a small troupe of dancers that perform regularly in a drab, grey nightclub, imitating his idol (John Travolta). His dream reaches its conclusion with a local television company announcing a ‘Tony Manero impersonation’ contest.

Yet, en-route to this potentially colourful and passionate activity, Peralta perpetrates an endless run of criminal activities in this soul-less place, all with the aim of being able to fund his obsession, regardless of how cold and meaningless the crimes may be. The parallel exists in the glamorous manner in which Pinochet was reputed to have lived his life, while many hundreds of thousands of his people were murdered by his own secret police service. He was above reproach, buoyed by the fact that he had no conscience about it either.

The film is shot by Chilean director, Pablo Larrain, in the most claustrophobic and mildly disturbing way. There is a lot of hand-held camera-work and a perpetually dark and forbidding back-drop to the scenery and the various rough edits that can become all-enveloping and affecting. It is a film about loss and lost identity. There are some intriguingly and uncomfortably humorous elements to the script and the performances, none more so than with the fact that Peralta is a man in his fifties, attempting to be a man in his twenties, a factor that is never more obvious than in the conclusive appearance on television in the dying moments of the film.

I shall not tell you the punch-line, because, in reality, there isn’t one. In addition, it is not so much what you are allowed to see in the film but what you cannot see that makes this production feel so utterly helpless and tragic. It is a truly exceptional film, played by a small cast of wonderful performers that warrants a closer look for its political significance and the outstanding quality of its production. A real winner on all counts.