Larrain’s “No” has quality acting, faulty script

By Isaac Siegemund-Broka
Staff Writer

In 2010, Pablo Larrain swept several Latin American film festivals with “Post Mortem,” the story of General Augusto Pinochet’s 1973 rise to power in Chili. Now two years later, Larrain returns to document Pinochet’s downfall in his film, “No,” a poorly written but masterfully executed account of the 1988 Chilean plebiscite that ousted the dictator from his power and pushed the country toward democracy.
Though the awkward pacing and uneven script of “No” destroy its intended tension, the film as a whole is saved by spectacular acting and directing.
While “No” has a promising start, begining with René (Gael García Bernal), a successful Chilean advertising executive who understands that the most powerful ads work by creating a positive association with a product—not necessarily an accurate one. This occurs at the same time as the 1988 Chilean plebiscite regarding the extension of Augusto Pinochet’s dictatorship, in which the “No” (against Pinochet) and “Yes” (for Pinochet) sides were each allowed 15 minutes of advertising time per day. From there, the marketing techniques behind one of René’s silly soda commercials gradually take hold of the advertising used to persuade people to vote “No.”
René seems to maintain philosophical and political neutrality despite helming the advertising for the “No” side, immediately identifying the film’s main idea: even a political faction can be essentially stripped of ideology and reduced to the form of a product that will succeed if advertised well. On one hand, it’s easy root for René, whose actions could bring the downfall of a cruel leader; on the other, it’s necessary to question the ease with which he destroys the power of philosophy and ideals in politics.
While “No” is an admittedly fictionalized account, it largely captures the historical significance of its story without taking ridiculous liberties in plot dialogue.
The direction and cinematography of “No” are near flawless, beautifully utilizing lo-fi videocassette formatting and natural light. This raw simplicity creates a guerrilla filmmaking atmosphere that, paired with the quasi-documentary feel, cleverly demonstrates that “No” is an essentially true, politically significant story of the political underdogs—not the establishment. Regardless, “No” goes far beyond that of an art film, largely due to the excellent acting.
For all its political weight, “No” is largely a story about one executive, René. In that role, Gael García Bernal is faultless—he seems more like a man than character. His love for his wife and child are genuine but never overdone, and his prowess as an advertiser shines through unambiguous yet modest confidence.
“No” is held back from greatness by its unsatisfying screenplay but should undoubtedly be appreciated for its brilliant acting, directing and story, a simultaneous espousal of political justice and of the soulless, capitalistic marketing of a political ideology. It is concurrently a story of a man, a campaign and a nation, and, though rough around the edges, is worth its two-hour runtime.
“No” is rated R and is playing in limited release.