El fotógrafo de Mauthausen
It left me with a rather divided feeling. The real story of Francesc Boix is extremely powerful: a Spanish republican deported to Mauthausen, forced to move inside the Nazi horror and able to preserve photographic evidence of enormous value. That alone deserves respect. The problem is that one thing is the importance of the story and another for the film to be up to it. And for me it was more the first than the second.
It did not reach me the way other films about the Holocaust, deportation or survival in concentration camps have. The subject impresses, of course, but the film did not manage to pull me inside with the force it should have. You understand the gravity, you see the horror, you know that what it tells matters, but you often experience it from a certain distance. It seemed dignified, but too novelistic, too much like a correct historical thriller, without the devastating sting this material could have had.
Mario Casas surprised me a little more than expected, especially because here he does not use so much that muted, closed voice that so often pulls me out of his films. There is an effort to change the register, to speak differently and to approach Francesc Boix with more clarity. I appreciated that. I would not say he disappears into the character, because in quite a few moments I still see Mario Casas, but at least he did not bother me as much as I feared.
That said, physically I found him hard to believe. I know he lost weight for the role and that Boix was not exactly in the same situation as other prisoners assigned to more brutal work, but even so there is something about his body that jars inside a camp like Mauthausen. He still has a presence that is too strong, too athletic, too much that of a leading actor who has reduced weight without fully losing his structure. And in a story like this, that affects immersion.
The film also has a problem with some supporting characters. Alain Hernández brings humanity in several scenes, but other characters remain quite flat. Macarena Gómez, for example, pulled me out quite a bit. In comedy I can buy that more marked energy, but here, in a historical drama of this kind, her presence felt too recognizable and somewhat affected. I did not quite see the character; I saw the actress acting.
The best thing is the idea of the photographs. There is a very powerful core there: the image as evidence, as memory, as resistance against those who want to erase their crimes. That Boix and other prisoners risked their lives to preserve those negatives has enormous force, and the film is right when it focuses on that dimension.
There are also moments with a certain tension. Life inside the camp, the clandestine movements, the need to hide evidence, the constant surveillance and the feeling that any gesture can cost a life work. The scene of extreme degradation of a prisoner has force because it does not need to adorn itself too much: it is enough to show hunger, fear and dehumanization.
But the whole thing falls short. The direction is correct, the setting has merit and you can feel the intention to make a serious film, but everything seems too orderly, too easy to follow, almost too "movie-like". Instead of feeling trapped in hell, it often seems like a competent recreation of a tremendous story.
Besides, next to works like Schindler's List or The Pianist, its limitations become much more noticeable. Not because every film about this subject has to be compared with those giants, but because those works manage to turn the historical context into a physical, emotional and moral experience. Here the context has weight by itself, but the characters do not always have the necessary depth.
I was not fully convinced by the thriller stretch either. When the film focuses on hiding negatives, fooling the Nazis and sustaining the tension of the mission, it works better; but when it moves closer to direct confrontation, it loses gravity and becomes more conventional. I understand the need to give it dramatic shape, but at times it feels as if the real story is fitted into molds that are too recognizable.
Even so, I would not dismiss it. It has a story that deserves to be told, a very powerful historical basis and moments that transmit unease. I also appreciate that it rescues the memory of Spanish republicans in Mauthausen, something that has not always had the space it should have in popular cinema. That part, by itself, gives it value.
In the end, it remains for me a correct, respectable but limited film. I was more interested in what it tells than in how it tells it. It did not seem like a disaster to me, but it did feel like a halfway opportunity: an extraordinary story turned into a too conventional historical drama, with a more restrained Mario Casas than usual but not always convincing, and with an emotion that should have hit much harder. Dignified, yes; great, no.
It did not reach me the way other films about the Holocaust, deportation or survival in concentration camps have. The subject impresses, of course, but the film did not manage to pull me inside with the force it should have. You understand the gravity, you see the horror, you know that what it tells matters, but you often experience it from a certain distance. It seemed dignified, but too novelistic, too much like a correct historical thriller, without the devastating sting this material could have had.
Mario Casas surprised me a little more than expected, especially because here he does not use so much that muted, closed voice that so often pulls me out of his films. There is an effort to change the register, to speak differently and to approach Francesc Boix with more clarity. I appreciated that. I would not say he disappears into the character, because in quite a few moments I still see Mario Casas, but at least he did not bother me as much as I feared.
That said, physically I found him hard to believe. I know he lost weight for the role and that Boix was not exactly in the same situation as other prisoners assigned to more brutal work, but even so there is something about his body that jars inside a camp like Mauthausen. He still has a presence that is too strong, too athletic, too much that of a leading actor who has reduced weight without fully losing his structure. And in a story like this, that affects immersion.
The film also has a problem with some supporting characters. Alain Hernández brings humanity in several scenes, but other characters remain quite flat. Macarena Gómez, for example, pulled me out quite a bit. In comedy I can buy that more marked energy, but here, in a historical drama of this kind, her presence felt too recognizable and somewhat affected. I did not quite see the character; I saw the actress acting.
The best thing is the idea of the photographs. There is a very powerful core there: the image as evidence, as memory, as resistance against those who want to erase their crimes. That Boix and other prisoners risked their lives to preserve those negatives has enormous force, and the film is right when it focuses on that dimension.
There are also moments with a certain tension. Life inside the camp, the clandestine movements, the need to hide evidence, the constant surveillance and the feeling that any gesture can cost a life work. The scene of extreme degradation of a prisoner has force because it does not need to adorn itself too much: it is enough to show hunger, fear and dehumanization.
But the whole thing falls short. The direction is correct, the setting has merit and you can feel the intention to make a serious film, but everything seems too orderly, too easy to follow, almost too "movie-like". Instead of feeling trapped in hell, it often seems like a competent recreation of a tremendous story.
Besides, next to works like Schindler's List or The Pianist, its limitations become much more noticeable. Not because every film about this subject has to be compared with those giants, but because those works manage to turn the historical context into a physical, emotional and moral experience. Here the context has weight by itself, but the characters do not always have the necessary depth.
I was not fully convinced by the thriller stretch either. When the film focuses on hiding negatives, fooling the Nazis and sustaining the tension of the mission, it works better; but when it moves closer to direct confrontation, it loses gravity and becomes more conventional. I understand the need to give it dramatic shape, but at times it feels as if the real story is fitted into molds that are too recognizable.
Even so, I would not dismiss it. It has a story that deserves to be told, a very powerful historical basis and moments that transmit unease. I also appreciate that it rescues the memory of Spanish republicans in Mauthausen, something that has not always had the space it should have in popular cinema. That part, by itself, gives it value.
In the end, it remains for me a correct, respectable but limited film. I was more interested in what it tells than in how it tells it. It did not seem like a disaster to me, but it did feel like a halfway opportunity: an extraordinary story turned into a too conventional historical drama, with a more restrained Mario Casas than usual but not always convincing, and with an emotion that should have hit much harder. Dignified, yes; great, no.
Mini Review: It left me with a rather divided feeling. The real story of Francesc Boix is extremely powerful: a Spanish republican deported to Mauthausen, forced to move inside the Nazi horror and able to preserve photographic evidence of enormous value. That alone deserves respect. The problem is that one thing is the importance of the story and another for the film to be up to it. And for me it was more the first than the second. It did not reach me the...
Watch the Trailer