Argentina, 1985 Is a Procedural Powerhouse

The horrendous historical reckoning inherent to Santiago Mitre’s Argentina, 1985 is unmistakably evoked through the film’s title. The Argentine director, who is best known for political dramas that examine the country’s social follies, meticulously recreates the circumstances surrounding what’s considered the most ambitious trial against fascist human rights violations in Latin American history. Co-written by Mitre and Mariano Llinás (the filmmaker behind the four-part epic La Flor), Argentina, 1985 is a stylistically assured procedural that manages to tastefully recount the mass torture, rape, killing and “disappearance” of more than 30,000 Argentine civilians by the military dictatorship during the so-called Dirty War that lasted nearly a decade from 1974 through 1983. Through capturing victim testimonies as they were presented in court during this months-long trial as well as the dogged pursuit for justice by a ragtag team of bravely dedicated prosecutors, the film wholly resists sensationalization, opting instead to faithfully reconstruct the events that culminated in a landmark win for social justice amid a shakily budding democracy.

Ricardo Darín plays Julio César Strassera, the lead prosecutor of the Trial of the Juntas, who is initially fearful over the prospect of publicly presiding over the case against these murderous fascists, none more notorious than one-time acting ruler Jorge Rafael Videla. Obviously, Strassera’s apprehension is more than warranted: With the national wounds still raw from the junta’s merry mass extermination of citizens accused of opposing their rule, he immediately begins to fret for the lives of his wife and children. This anxiety manifests in subtle and overt ways — he loses sleep, relies on nerve-numbing cocktails and begins taking his son to school on the subway instead of risking the threat of car bombs being planted in his modest sedan. However, the pressure of this undertaking is partially lifted from his shoulders when deputy prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo (Peter Lanzani) joins the case. Together, they select a legal team to aid in their extensive, labor-intensive hunt for witnesses, incriminating documents and written statements that detail the nauseating cruelty and violence of the junta.

As a Spanish-language film from a director who is decidedly focused on Argentinian political affairs, Argentina, 1985 presents key figures, important dates and monumental events with a thoughtfulness that expects a certain level of familiarity with the subject from its audience. For example, there is no overt attempt to contextualize the presence of las madres de la Plaza de Mayo, one of the only publicly-facing protest groups that existed during the junta. As their name suggests, they were the mothers of “disappeared” civilians who would march in Buenos Aires’ Plaza de Mayo on a daily basis, demanding to know the whereabouts of their children, many of whom were never located. When some of Stressera’s underlings approach the activists, they agree to help by handing over whatever documents the now-formal association has in its possession. However, one mother states of their request: “I hope the prosecutor behaves better than during the dictatorship.” When a young woman assisting with the case clarifies that Stressera didn’t do anything noteworthy during the junta, the mother solemnly clarifies her point: “Nothing. He did nothing.” Additionally, talk of Peronismo, an anti-junta political leaning that aligns itself with the pre-dictatorship presidency of Juan Perón (whose sudden death and subsequent succession by his VP and third wife Isabel led to the destabilization that saw the junta take power) is pervasive throughout the film, but there is little background presented on this leader and how the populace came to view his presidency in hindsight during an oppressive dictatorship.

However, the fact that Mitre and Llinás don’t plainly state these connections is no excuse for viewers to feel lost, particularly when it comes to American audiences. After all, the U.S. had an explicit hand in financially supporting the very regime that made life a living hell for the majority of Argentines. American businesses such as the Ford Motor Company and Citibank were directly responsible for the junta’s violent civilian suppression, particularly when it came to “disappearing” workers with pro-union ties. Of course, this is only one example of heinous interference on the part of the U.S. when it comes to aiding fascist dictatorships in Latin America—this nation also had a significant role in aiding the rise of the genocidal regimes of the Contras in Nicaragua, Efraín Ríos Montt in Guatemala, Augusto Pinochet in Chile and various other South American leaders affiliated with Operation Condor.