What a terrific film Lucrecia Martel has made with Zama. A powerful historical drama that transports the audience into the past, with the director’s meticulous style and dedication to her narrative providing a substantially fascinating journey to a period that has been somewhat under-represented in contemporary literature. I have mentioned it before, but I find the colonial period in South America one of the most fascinating eras in world history, especially because it is somewhat unexplored, with only a few works focusing on the region. Particular favorites of mine include Aguirre: the Wrath of God by Werner Herzog, The Lost City of Z by James Gray, and perhaps most effectively, How Tasty Was My Little Frenchman by Nelson Pereira dos Santos which I am certain Martel drew inspiration from in the making of this film, insofar as both films are relentlessly bleak depictions of a European trapped in a region and descending into lunacy as his physical and mental condition grows gradually weaker. Lucrecia Martel makes her triumphant return to filmmaking with Zama, her fourth film overall, the first in a decade since having made the towering masterpiece The Headless Woman. Needless to say, Martel proves herself to be one of the most significant filmmakers of the global south, only exemplifying her genius with Zama, one of the finest films of the year, and a haunting testament to a bleak historical period.

Don Diego de Zama (Daniel Giménez Cacho) is a magistrate and corregidor who has been stationed in the seaside colony of Asunción in Paraguay. He is a representative of the Spanish Empire (despite never even having been to Spain), which has so graciously forced him to remain in this arid location for years, serving his duties so well, they see very little need for him to be transferred. He patiently awaits the opportunity to leave and continue his life in a more lively city, such as Buenos Aires, only to have his pleas outright ignored in many instances. It appears that Zama is facing an uncertain future in the colony, destined to be the foil to other officials who come and go without nearly as much experience as him, while he stands aside, idly awaiting his opportunity to leave. Eventually, he embarks on a perilous adventure for the elusive Vicuña Porto, a bandit and traitor who is the subject of a wide bounty hunt by the colonizers, who are intent on providing his head to the authorities to prove their victory and bring honour to their empire. What seemed to be a dangerous but inconsequential journey turns into something far more sinister, with Zama realizing that even in such an arid colony, there is still deception and peril lurking around every corner, waiting patiently to pounce on an unsuspecting victim like the animals that are mostly unseen, but mentioned constantly.

Zama is constructed as an in-depth chronicle of the trials and tribulations of the titular character and his experiences while being stationed in the dull Asunción region. A complex character study, the film required a strong actor to portray the character, and they certainly did exceptionally well in casting Daniel Giménez Cacho, who gives a truly impressive performance. Much of what Cacho had to do in this film was extremely internal, and thus even the most subtle expression and seemingly-inconsequential gesture carried massive significance. Cacho is a terrific lead, and he carries this film gracefully, anchoring it and conveying the turmoil of a character we grow to empathize with, despite his troubling colonial leanings. It is a really impressive performance, and considering this film follows Zama over the course of a few years, Cacho deftly handles the growing disillusionment this character feels, showing his slow decay in a way that is effective but never gaudy or inauthentic. It is a wonderful portrayal from an actor fully in control of his craft, and he certainly left an indelible impression.

In terms of the rest of the ensemble, Lola Dueñas and Matheus Nachtergaele have two major supporting roles, each occupying a different arc in the film, and doing tremendously well in playing against Cacho’s central performance. Dueñas, playing the superficial and ditzy wealthy aristocrat Luciana Piñares de Luenga, is excellent and portrays the excess of the colonial bourgeoisie with precise skill. She has some exceptional moments and contributes a great deal to a film that required her good-natured and often very lighthearted performance in order to ground it in the absurd reality Martel is creating for us. Nachtergaele impressed me with his performance as the film’s main antagonist, and despite being constructed (prior to his introduction) as the embodiment of malice who is the bane of the entire empire’s existence, there is a strangely formidable strength in the wiry, small-framed Nachtergaele, who holds his own against Cacho, using his despicable charms to create a truly terrifying villain, while still finding the humanity in an otherwise malignant character. The cast of Zama is appropriately small, allowing the core characters to have some remarkable moments where they develop into well-rounded, fascinating individuals, which is very important for this film, especially because too many period dramas sacrifice character development for the sake of lavish and detailed design. Zama manages to have both in equal measure, an achievement on its own.

In pondering this film, I would say that Zama, which is based on a highly-acclaimed novel of the same name, has two purposes. The first is to be a snapshot of a historical period that was bleak, violent and filled with injustice, as well as being the foundation upon which contemporary South America was built. Arguably not filled with as much hopeless despair as other films focused on the history, such as those that look at conquistadors, or curious explorers impinging on the tranquil life of native people, Zama still portrays the dark history of the region, showing how the colonial project influenced the continent and its people. It shows a particularly poignant period in South American history, and while the film and the eponymous novel on which it is based are technically works of fiction, the situations and contexts they portray are brutal, stark and uncomfortable.

There is no shortage of violence that occurs throughout the film, with some horrifying moments (such as the haunting climactic act, which is nothing short of exhilarating pandemonium), but it is never exploitative, nor is it unnecessary. It all serves the central purpose of showing the desolate and gruesome nature of colonialism in a way that is factual and void of sentimentality or false accusations, and rather appropriately grim. Obviously, no one living today could truly consider themselves a true authority on the precise quality of life, as well as the conditions these people had to face at the hands of the colonizers, but the film has a certain gritty realism that would not have been possible had it not been profoundly dedicated to factual, honest representation of what we know to be true.

The second purpose of Zama is the more interesting one in my personal opinion – to be a delicate character study of the titular Diego de Zama, and reflect his experiences with the colonial project as a whole. Zama was not a particularly fascinating individual as shown through this story – he was an ordinary magistrate stranded in a hopelessly dull colony where he spends years, and most likely the final moments of his life. Yet, Martel constructs him as so wonderfully complex, showing his deteriorating mental state as time progresses. Nothing substantial happens socially or politically throughout this film, yet it is an enthralling, complex story because of how we see the colonial era take its toll on Zama. He descends into delusions and resorts to minor insanity as a response to the hopeless entrapment he feels. His transfer seems like it is never coming, and he eventually grows into a grizzled shadow of his former self. The film is a portrait of an era, but it is more effective when you look at it as a deeply-intricate character study, showing an individual’s decaying condition caused by the selfish ambitions of others, as well as his own undying but delusional faith in humanity. It really is terrific.

Zama is a wonderful film. It is far from a dense, dour historical epic, and rather manages to be a refreshingly complex period drama that utilizes its subject well, constructing a riveting and masterful film that is as informative and fascinating as it is absurd and surreal. The central performances are great, and it is thematically quite a profound film, with some moments of sheer artistic genius scattered generously throughout, being beautifully composed and visually stunning. It is a haunting film, one that clearly shows the brutality of colonialism in a way that is not intended to move audiences, but rather horrifies them through the violent ambiguity that we are presented with, creating an unsettling but beautifully stark depiction of a particular historical moment. Lucrecia Martel may have taken nearly a decade to make her return to cinema, but I will certainly say that it was worth the wait, because the final product was something as brilliant as Zama, one of the finest films of its kind, and certainly one of the best films of the year.