Director: Felipe Gálvez Haberle
Writers: Antonia Girardi, Felipe Gálvez Haberle, and Mariano Llinás
Stars: Mark Stanley, Sam Spruell, Alfredo Castro
Synopsis: A mixed-race Chilean, rides south on an expedition led by MacLenan, a former Boer War English captain and Bill, an American mercenary, to fence off land granted to Spanish landowner José Menéndez.
It’s not a stretch to say that the relevance of the Western film genre has diminished greatly since its height. While certain tropes and stylistic choices appear all over as inspired remnants in contemporary film, there are very few true Westerns being made today. Enter Felipe Gálvez Haberle’s The Settlers, an impressive narrative feature debut which threads the needle between genre takedown and ode. Importantly, Gálves Haberle addresses an essential fact: Western films were, inherently, propagandistic by nature. In Hollywood’s mission to sanitize the history of America, the cowboy became a mythical figure. The Old West, through the likes of John Ford, Sam Peckinpah, Clint Eastwood, and more; became an idealized time period. The Settlers is able to recognize some inherent beauties found during the time of the cowboy, but never fails to highlight the ugly evil that lurked in the shadows of icons like The Lone Ranger or The Man With No Name.
Opening in 1907, the film takes place across the vast, mostly empty landscape of Chile. We are introduced to José Menéndez (Alfredo Castro) and his slew of overworked employees. While he is known throughout history as a massive landowner in Chile, the film introduces him in another manner. Harsh, bold letters appear across the entire screen to reveal his moniker: The God of White Gold. The whole film is broken up into mythically-named chapters, and likewise treats character introductions in a similar manner. While its impact may not be understood at first, Gálves Haberle is cleverly using these moments to imprint the idea of myth-making onto the audience. If we build up these people and this time period as larger than life, surely the acts we witness will feel all the more impactful. Menéndez enlists the aid of Alexander MacLennan (Mark Stanley), a British lieutenant he has hired to clear a path to the Atlantic Ocean for his sheep to safely be sold. Along the journey, he is forced to bring Bill (Benjamín Westfall), a caricature of a Texas cowboy, and Segundo (Camilo Arancibia), a half-Mapuche, half-Spanish scout forced to work by Menéndez. This slow burn of a film actually sets the stage for the remainder of its runtime rather quickly. That being said, the film might have benefitted from a bit more table setting as far as familiarizing its audience with the historical context in which the film takes place.
As the film plays on though, it’s clear Gálves Haberle is less interested in a direct depiction of history, and more in highlighting how countless atrocities during that time have been swept under the rug. While discussing the film’s setting and events, he made it known that they are “not part of the official version of the history of Chile… they are not included in the school curriculum either.” On the surface, The Settlers is a stark and upsetting depiction of the cruel violence of colonization. The events of this film make way for something far more frightening, however. There’s a jump through time in the final act of the film. The audience is ripped away from wide open land and brought into the seemingly haunted home of Menéndez himself. We are introduced to Vicuña (Marcelo Alonso), an envoy of the Chilean president. Confronting Menéndez for the atrocities he committed in the name of expansion, one might expect to see some form of retribution. But alas, this is a film that doesn’t shy away from real-world horror. Gálvez Haberle made a point to note that the villains of this film still have streets, parks, and rivers named after them. Instead, the two discuss how to “address” a deeply flawed history without destroying a sense of nationalism among the people of Chile. In other words, the two are looking to save the power they have amassed by being cold, heartless men. Vicuña makes his thoughts abundantly clear, even when speaking in metaphors: “Wool stained with blood loses all value.”
The first 80 minutes of the film are framed through the lens of Segundo. Serving mainly as a witness to these horrors, he rarely speaks to the two bigots he has been forced to accompany. At most, he has five lines of dialogue for the majority of the film. But Arancibia’s near dialogue-free performance is utterly felt. With eyes that could stare directly through a soul, the anger and fear clash up against one another as he is eventually forced to partake in this evil. It’s only in the final moments of the film when he’s at his most vocal. Smartly, Gálvez Haberle frames the final 20 minutes of the film in a totally different manner. While it’s the most we hear Segundo speak, he loses all his agency in the presence of those who visit his humble abode. The entire film is framed through Segundo’s viewpoint, yet he is treated with nothing but racism and belittlement by nearly every character in the film. It’s a startling way to treat your lead character, but it’s a damningly effective portrayal of a history that has been washed away through ignorance. The Settlers takes a bold, often overtly-violent approach to tackling an essential subject, but when addressing a history that has been pushed aside for so long, a statement such as Gálvez Haberle’s film is necessary.
