Victoria Abril's metamorphosis. One day in Nicaragua It so happens that with a good plot, a strong acting troupe and a landmark theme, the film turns out to be completely untenable. This is exactly what happened to Sandino. Suddenly, a strong selection of actors, Nicaraguan rehashes with an eternal story about Zapata and a completely intact story about Sandino are here in captivity to the academic director’s eye. He seems to have set out to make cinema not just understandable and accessible, but completely predictable and template. Here are the invaders, here are Sandino, here are the victims, here are the Americans. It’s not even a unipolar world – it’s some kind of unicellular, zero-tempering dry rendition of historical facts. There is no intrigue at all.
Chris Christofferson, Joaquim de Almeida and Victoria Abril simply can’t show anything, limiting themselves to the presence or display of emotions. Each of them was perfect for the role. The same Almeida, I know, can give a wonderful immersion in the image. But to play them, for the most part, there was nothing because of the plane and cardboard roles. And a pity, because if the director got rid of the obvious complexity, the picture could turn out very bright. In addition, the budget seems to have been quite decent. It was just that the actors could pull everything. So, I can only recommend a good movie lover not to watch this movie. It is better to revisit “Long Live Zapata” with Marlon Brando – this is the sample of Latin American guerilla-movies.
4 out of 10