Who
knew socialism could lead to such privation and poverty? Except maybe anyone
who ever studied economics to any extent. In the case of Venezuela, there
really is no excuse for the devastating effects of state command of the
economy, because the nation is blessed with considerable oil reserves and was
ruled by a dictator who was considered a folk hero by his famous international admirers.
Nevertheless, viewers can see the devastating results of Chavism over a twelve-year
period in Anabel Rodriguez Rios’s documentary, Once Upon a Time in Venezuela,
which screens during the 2020 Sundance Film Festival.
Congo
Mirador is a small village on stilts that sits not far from Lake Maracaibo, the
center of Venezuela’s oil industry. Its proximity should make it prosperous,
but instead it is dying. In fact, it might not survive the film as a viable
community. Pollution has devastated the water-bound town, but the Chavists only
seem to care about them during election years. Even then, they just offer small
tokens like cell-phones, rather than any long-term relief.
Indeed,
Mrs. Tamara, the village’s hard-core Chavist political coordinator is so
nakedly corrupt, she openly offers bribes to villagers in exchange for votes,
but this year, even her friends are defiantly refusing to go along anymore. In
contrast, the local school teacher, Natalia is not explicitly political, but her
independent inclinations earn her the scorn of Tamara. She must also endure constant
harassment from the regional school supervisor, who always looks for petty
causes to reprimand the devoted teacher, such as the organization of the supply
shelf (fully stocked with defective pens that do not write). Yet, Natalia is
widely popular among her students and their parents, at least while they remain
in the dying village.
Although
Rios largely takes an observational approach, a narrative form slowly but
surely takes shape. Nor does she merely cull together some representational
footage from the twelve years she filmed in Congo Mirador. Throughout the film,
viewers can see the director has a keen sense of visual composition. Each shot
is carefully framed and included for a reason. At times, it is a hauntingly
eerie film, especially when a senior resident sings ghostly old folk songs
during the film’s after-hours scenes. Arguably, Once Upon a Time follows
in the tradition of documentarians like Henri Cartier-Bresson, who made exposes
that were also art.
This
is a quiet film, but there is power and poison concealed inside. It also holds
the distinction of being the first Venezuelan documentary selected for
Sundance. As a filmmaker and a Venezuelan in exile, Anabel Rodriguez Rios has
malice for none, not even the Chavistas, like Mrs. Tamara, but there is no
escaping the disastrous economy and desperate living conditions their policies
have wrought. Highly recommended as truth and art, Once Upon a Time in
Venezuela screens again this morning (1/31) in Park City and tomorrow (2/1)
in Salt Lake, as part of this year’s Sundance.