In 1986, Luis Puenzo’s film The Official Story won both an Oscar and a Golden Globe for Best Foreign Language Film. A few years earlier, any Argentinian even thinking of making a movie with its theme might have found himself ‘disappeared,’ secretly murdered by the military government and erased from the official record. After the disastrous Guerra del Atlántico Sur (The Falklands War) the junta lost power, and many Argentinan intellectuals were able to return to their homeland, after years of exile. Just the same, director Puenzo’s film was met with death threats during production — even a 4 year-old girl playing a lead role. The flagrant disappearance murders may have ceased, but the perpetrators were still around, many in their same jobs.
The Official Story is about political oppression and lies and the kind of high crimes and atrocities that were common occurrences in the cold war years, not just in totalitarian communist regimes, but also in dictatorships that were ‘encouraged’ to fight communism by whatever means they could. Unlike the conspiracy thriller “Z” and others of its kind, this absorbing drama sticks to an intimate domestic level, showing how a family seemingly above reproach can be revealed to be rotten to the core. A serious history lesson and a warning to any country divided along political lines, this film by Luis Puenzo (Old Gringo) is one of the finest to come out of Latin America.
Alicia (Norma Aleandro) teaches secondary school in Buenos Aires. Her husband Roberto (Héctor Alterio) is an officer in the military governmment. They have a beautiful young daughter, Gaby. The ‘troubles’ of the 1970s seem to have subsided and everything appears to be fine. Then Alicia’s old girlfriend Ana (Chunchuna Villafañe) returns from Europe. Alicia is moved by the story of why Ana left so hastily six years before: she’d been tortured and raped by government forces seeking the whereabouts of a boyfriend from her past, an anti-government radical. Roberto discourages Alicia from taking Ana’s story seriously, but Alicia investigates and discovers a horrible truth. Her ‘adopted’ daughter Gaby is almost certainly the stolen offspring of radical students murdered by her husband’s men. Alicia makes contact with Las abuelas, the grandmothers that protest daily in the public squares, seeking justice for the thousands of ‘disappeareds.’ She eventually finds one woman who may be Gaby’s grandmother. But what can Alicia possibly do about it?
Alicia’s story is a domestic nightmare. The Latin American home is supposed to be sacred, and the prosperous middle class has constructed an airtight denial pattern to keep it separate and secure from the problems of politics and ideology. Actually, the main goal of the Latin middle class would seem to be the pursuit of any kind of security to maintain their class status and privileges. Alicia slowly discovers that the ‘troubles’ of several years before reach right into her home, and that her marriage is built on lies and atrocious crime.
Alicia’s husband Roberto is part of a small political group that quietly arrange diplomatic and military exchanges between the Argentine government and the C.I.A.. His circle of working colleagues are well off and smug about the rightness of their work. As they are neck-deep in former ‘sensitive activities,’ they also maintain a strong solidarity of purpose. They often meet for dinner with their wives, and Alicia bridles at the arrogance of the top man’s missus, who takes it upon herself to criticize the other wives. Alicia has no cause to worry about it, but the loudmouthed woman alludes to something being wrong about Gaby’s adoption and Alicia not being able to bear children of her own.
Then Ana shows up with her horrendous story of torture and rape, and Alicia doesn’t know what to believe. Roberto’s disdainful response is to tell her not to associate with ‘that bitch’ and her lies, but he objects far too quickly. Alicia knows she’s being lied to. That leads to the investigation of the Grandmothers of the Disappeareds with the help of another teacher. The closer Alicia gets to the truth, the more domineering and unreasonable her husband becomes. The way he puts it, her innocent search for a fact threatens national security. He still refuses to be honest with her, demanding that she ignore the situation and stop making trouble. Alicia finds that she cannot, especially after she sees the photos of a pair of sweethearts barely out of their teens, who were murdered leaving behind a missing baby. Alicia’s Gaby is very likely that baby.
The brilliance of The Official Story lies in the way it equates Roberto’s paternalistic oppression of his own wife (be happy, enjoy my success, stop asking questions) with the way criminal governments operate. The Argentine military dictatorship was supported by outside money and expertise on how to conduct interrogations with torture. Thousands of Argentine citizens were kidnapped, imprisoned, tortured and murdered by right-wing death squads secretly operating for the dictator and funded ‘from overseas.’ None of this is fantasy or propaganda. Our own 60 Minutes once had chilling feature stories about the children of murdered ‘radicals’ – anyone denounced as anti-government – being adopted by police families unable to have children.
As Puenzo explains, the title “The Official Story” implies that there is a second, hidden True Story not being told. Official Stories now equate with almost any goverment evasion or falsehood meant to place a screen in front of sanctioned lies and criminal activity. The corrupt Argentine junta didn’t fall until it tried to unite the country behind military activity, in a failed reconquest of the Malvinas that was quickly put down by the British in 1982.
The Official Story is especially interesting because it shows an angle on Latin American life rarely seen in export films. The people are cosmopolitans living a lifestyle comparable to that of citizens in Europe or the U.S.; this isn’t the stereotyped ‘leftist’ movie about downtrodden peons struggling against all odds. The movie also cleverly uses the conventions of a soap opera as its framework. Alicia’s problem starts with a simple question about her family that needs to be cleared up. It never balloons into a conspiracy story with larger consequences. Roberto is a false husband who would rather do his wife harm than let her seriously question his crimes. His paternalistic tyranny aligns perfectly with the official tyranny that tortures and murders for the good of the people.
The acting is exceptional. Norma Aleandro is a busy working housewife surrounded by non-working petty damas de casa; Chunchuna Villafañe seems more modern and liberated for her time away from the country, even though she suffers permanent emotional damage. Héctor Alterio is the good company man making deals with American emissaries and exercising his masculine perogative to criticize Ana while leering at her. He’s particularly convincing when trying to force Alicia to obey him and stop asking questions, just because he’s the man of the family. Analia Castro is the cute daughter Gaby, who reminds of the Argentinian cartoon character Mafalda; she’s the most memorable tot I’ve seen in a Latin American film. Puenzo later describes her precociousness by explaining that Analia was four years old, but her character Gaby is meant to be five years old.
Politically speaking, The Official Story is a brave movie for its director and producers; it begins with the singing of the Argentine national anthem. Blind and thoughtless patriotism is an important part of the evil that Alicia comes to know. The film also won the Best Foreign Film award at the 1985 Golden Globes, and lead actress Norma Aleandro won best Actress at Cannes the same year.
