There is no shortage of domestic and international crises right now, and it can be difficult to fully understand everything that’s happening. In other words, don’t beat yourself up if you found yourself wondering, when Donald Trump ordered Delta Force to zip into Venezuela and capture its president, Nicolás Maduro, and his wife, Cilia Flores, on charges including narcoterrorism, conspiracy, and weapons possession: “Wait, what the hell is all this about?”
You have surely read up on the topic by now (not least thanks to Foreign Policy’s reporting and analysis), but many people need a more personal connection to fully measure the importance of a headline. This is where cinema—the “empathy machine,” as the late film critic Roger Ebert called it—can fill in the gaps.
There is no shortage of domestic and international crises right now, and it can be difficult to fully understand everything that’s happening. In other words, don’t beat yourself up if you found yourself wondering, when Donald Trump ordered Delta Force to zip into Venezuela and capture its president, Nicolás Maduro, and his wife, Cilia Flores, on charges including narcoterrorism, conspiracy, and weapons possession: “Wait, what the hell is all this about?”
You have surely read up on the topic by now (not least thanks to Foreign Policy’s reporting and analysis), but many people need a more personal connection to fully measure the importance of a headline. This is where cinema—the “empathy machine,” as the late film critic Roger Ebert called it—can fill in the gaps.
There haven’t been as many movies about modern Venezuela as about other nations undergoing great tumult. But there are enough to give you a more tactile understanding of the people, the politicians, and their struggles.
Men of War
Directed by Jen Gatien and Billy Corben
Men of War, which I wrote about in great depth just four months ago, was worth watching before Trump’s actions in Venezuela, and it’s even more essential now.
The 2024 documentary details the largely forgotten Operation Gideon—also known as the Bay of Piglets incident—in 2020, when a small group of U.S. mercenaries attempted to overthrow Maduro’s government in Venezuela. The episode was treated as a mere sideshow at the time, and this stranger-than-fiction documentary portrays the coup’s mastermind, former Green Beret Jordan Goudreau, as a dimwit straight out of a Coen brothers film. There is evidence, however, suggesting that the first Trump administration was initially involved in instigating the affair.
The film dives into the weird world of private security contracts, corruption within the Venezuelan expat business community, and the long-held grudges of Venezuelan military leaders who were dismissed by Maduro. Its perspective is rather jaundiced, made all the darker and more depressing when considering the livelihoods and civil liberties at stake in the present moment. Watching the film now, at a time when Trump boasts about a (fake) Wikipedia page anointing him “acting president” of Venezuela, it is clear that this first attempt at regime change may not have been as quixotic as originally thought.
Men of War is available to rent on streaming platforms such as Amazon and Apple TV+.
Once Upon a Time in Venezuela
Directed by Anabel Rodríguez Ríos
In stark contrast to the snarky tone of Men of War stands Anabel Rodríguez Ríos’ moody and immersive documentary Once Upon a Time in Venezuela, which debuted at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival. The film is a languidly paced overview of Congo Mirador, a small (and getting smaller) fishing village of stilted shacks bobbing in the waters of Lake Maracaibo, a primary source of Venezuela’s oil reserves. Pollution and sedimentation have made the area nearly unlivable, but the small community hangs on in hope of a brighter future.
While some evenings shown in the film are spent communing over traditional guitar music, swinging in hammocks, or gazing at silent lightning, national politics loom large in advance of an upcoming election. Ms. Tamara, a local businesswoman, is deeply devoted to the late Hugo Chávez. The interior of her home is covered in images of the socialist leader as if he were a pop star and is cluttered with the red baseball caps affiliated with the ruling party (an ironic sight, considering what similar headgear represents in the United States). Though she rarely expresses love for Maduro, she firmly supports him, if only because of his anointment by Chávez. She canvasses for Maduro by giving her neighbors bottles of Pepsi and promising them cell phones and cash if they pledge their vote. Those who are less than enthusiastic about the current leadership are harangued until they promise not to vote for the opposition.
A lesser film would merely dismiss her blatant corruption, but Tamara’s outreach seems to stem from an authentic and fiery belief in the ideals of the Bolivarian revolution and the betterment of the people. This makes the eventual climax—her visit to the halls of power to advocate for her village—all the more deflating when a suited politician turns to take a phone call in the middle of her plea.
Once Upon a Time in Venezuela is less about data points and more about immersion in the environment it depicts: It shows teachers searching a box of pens to find the ones that still have ink, spends a night at a toddler’s beauty pageant, and captures political strategy sessions. Ms. Tamara is a complex figure (her hammock is slightly more luxurious than everyone else’s), but she is an undeniable force in action. “If you don’t kiss your woman when you make love to her, she will leave you—that’s how revolution works!” she exclaims to a group of party bureaucrats, demanding aid for her neighbors. Who says there can’t be poetry in politics?
Once Upon a Time in Venezuela is streamable via Kanopy, which is free in North America for most people with library cards.
A Dangerous Assignment: Uncovering Corruption in Maduro’s Venezuela
Directed by Juan Ravell
If Once Upon a Time in Venezuela is all about tone, then the journalistic documentary A Dangerous Assignment: Uncovering Corruption in Maduro’s Venezuela is far more plot driven. It details the staggering true story of Alex Saab, a corrupt Colombian-Venezuelan businessman, former informant for the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency, and close chum of Maduro.
Roberto Deniz, a Venezuelan journalist who self-exiled to Colombia for safety, is our eyes and ears into Saab’s (and therefore Maduro’s) world. He is first drawn to Saab after the launch of Maduro’s wobbly hunger relief program, Local Committees for Supply and Production (CLAP), which distributes rotten foodstuffs to the poor. A clip of Maduro boasting that the products are “of the highest quality in our country and the world—am I lying?” is eerily reminiscent of Trump shilling his frozen steaks. The powdered milk, meanwhile, is soon revealed to be a cheap substance akin to rice flour with a sodium content so high that it could make children sick.
In just one of many scams perpetrated against the Venezuelan people, CLAP’s shoddy goods were sourced by Saab himself, with the leftover cash going straight into his pocket (plus some kickbacks for Maduro). But Saab’s life in Colombia’s Barranquilla (Shakira also has a place in his high-rise!) is interrupted when he is arrested in Cape Verde and extradited to the United States. He becomes a cause célèbre as a symbol of imperialist meddling—cue Roger Waters’ outrage video—although Deniz’s reporting reveals the damage that Saab’s and Maduro’s greed has caused over time.
Even after the surprising twist that Saab turned out to have been working with the U.S. government, Maduro still uses him as a rallying cry against the United States. A Dangerous Assignment is a great example of something we saw this month: Nothing about Venezuela is predictable.
A Dangerous Assignment: Uncovering Corruption in Maduro’s Venezuela, was first broadcast on PBS’s Frontline, and is streamable for free directly on YouTube.
Simón
Directed by Diego Vicentini
Diego Vicentini’s narrative feature Simón is a good ole fashion character drama meant to boil your blood.
We first meet the titular protagonist (wonderfully played by Venezuelan actor Christian McGaffney) in the steel and glass towers of Miami. A realtor friend lets him and his leaking air mattress crash in empty apartments while he works a restaurant job and attempts to keep his PTSD at bay. Through flashbacks and conversations with a new pal helping him apply for asylum, we learn that Simón was a leader of a pro-democracy student group back home. After one of his comrades sold him out to the police, Simón and his best friend were imprisoned and coerced into signing anti-protest statements.
While Simón does not reinvent any dramatic wheels, it is remarkably successful in its simplicity. This young man is immediately likeable. Once he has a ticking clock (one of his friends in Venezuela needs insulin, which is difficult to come by), his urgency triggers a cascade of poor decisions. These high-stress scenes are accompanied by clever cinematic turns, such as when Zoom meetings visually transport Simón away from the safety of Miami.
The movie features brutal prison scenes, as well as physical and psychological torture. This includes the most innovative use of orange juice as a weapon that I’ve ever seen. When Simón’s new American friend Melissa (Jana Nawartschi) learns about the troubled South American nation, the film features a montage of newspaper headlines and articles with graphics explaining how over 90 percent of the population lives in poverty despite the country’s wealth of natural resources. It isn’t subtle, but it’s effective.
Simón is streaming on Netflix.
The Liberator
Directed by Alberto Arvelo
Every film I’ve mentioned thus far references Maduro and Chávez not just as leaders but Bolivarian revolutionaries. After all, Simón is not named Simón for nothing. So let’s conclude this mini-festival with a big fat Hollywood-style biopic of Simón Bolívar, El Libertador, the Liberator of America.
Can you really pack the life and legacy of one of the most important statesmen of the early 19th century into two hours? No, of course not. This slick, simplistic film speeds through Bolívar’s life and work with the alacrity of a galloping horse. Though corny and cutting corners, it isn’t without charm.
Édgar Ramírez sufficiently buckles your swash as the Caracas-born aristocrat who evolves into an anti-colonial unifier and military leader. Thanks to the love (and loss!) of a caring woman and an enlightened tutor, Bolívar is destined to lead a unified revolution against the Spanish Empire, following in the footsteps of George Washington and Thomas Jefferson—but “not only for white men, for all men.”
The film features daring battle sequences; a brutal crossing of the Andes; jokes with Irish immigrants who joined the liberation fight; Danny Huston playing a sniveling British financier; an opportunity for Ramírez to dance with Juana Acosta’s Manuela Sáenz (something of a sultry, female, socialist James Bond); and a tee-up for audience applause with the line, “I am the people!”
I won’t lie and say that The Liberator is good, but it’s never boring. And it’s fascinating to see how the use of the term “Bolivarian” has evolved.
The Liberator is available to rent on Apple TV+ for a small fee, or to stream on Kanopy with a library card.
Unfortunately, it seems impossible at the moment to screen another film: Nicolás, a biography of Maduro made for his 2024 campaign. According to the Associated Press, the movie (or seven-part series, according to one report) depicts the young Maduro growing up in a working class neighborhood in Caracas, unsure whether to pursue a career in baseball or politics. Maduro was reportedly seen with tears in his eyes at the film’s premiere. While the project is nearly impossible to find online, a group calling themselves “21st Century Che Guevara” apparently recently held a post-arrest screening in South Korea. Perhaps the group will launch a streaming service one day.
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