Zama (2017)

A true original, you might have struggled to hunt down Zama on its release in 2017. Well I say original, it’s based on a 1956 novel of the same name by Antonio di Benedetto, but the way this is adapted for the screen by Lucrecia Martel is unlike anything I’ve seen before. Zama is an officer of the Spanish crown, born in South America but awaiting a letter from the King that will grant him a transfer from the town he is based in, back to his family in Lerma. The problem is that this letter never seems to arrive, and as governors come and go, he is forced to submit to their various demands (however unreasonable) lest he be refused his promised transfer. The village is a remote Argentinian one, in the late eighteenth century, and the way Zama is shot is breathtaking, offering majestic cinematography that works wonders in giving you beauty as you are swamped by the increasing desperation of Zama himself, a terrifically low-key performance by Daniel Gimenez Cacho. There is more to read in his face throughout the film than several of the speeches he gives to occupants of the village, and the film eventually appears to be a portrayal of desperation and loneliness, but also set against reasoning that we neither find redemption from or understand. It doesn’t all hang together, at times you’re left slightly frustrated by the lack of reason or explanation, but for the most part you’re engulfed in the remote world of Zama, and spellbound by its almost confusing beauty. 7.8/10