Ocaso (2010)

Directed by: Theo Court | 78 minutes | documentary| Starring: Alvaro Bustamante, Rafael Vazquez, Nano Vazquez

As in the recent ‘La nana’, also a Chilean production, ‘Ocaso’ (2010) focuses on the life of a domestic servant. In both films, the viewer is shown the daily activities of a domestic helper who lives with their boss. But despite the similar premise, the two films couldn’t be more different than they do now. In ‘La nana’ it is the maid Raquel, who, after years of loyal service, is confronted with jealous feelings and the idea that she is redundant. There is also superfluousness in ‘Ocaso’. ‘La nana’ is dryly comical, smooth and slowly but surely manages to cling to the viewer’s skin. Théo Court – a professional photographer – making his debut with ‘Ocaso’ – has made a slow, heavy film about an almost elderly butler, a film in which the viewer has to invest a lot to get satisfaction from it.

The main character of ‘Ocaso’ is an old man who calmly and seemingly emotionless carries out his daily tasks. These activities vary from gathering wood, lighting a fire, eating, and shuffling about indefinitely in the large farm (which, incidentally, belongs to the director’s great-grandfather) or through the overgrown garden that surrounds the manor. At first it’s not even clear that he’s a butler, it’s only when we watch him in a scene with his boss that something starts to dawn. In ‘Ocaso’ the visual language is many times more important than the conversations. The text of the dialogues fits easily on an A4 sheet, with the largest part being swallowed by a monologue by the butler’s boss.

The filmmaker hardly lets us see the main character, he is often filmed from behind, in long static shots, with the camera at a distance and the butler regularly disappearing from the frame. As a result, you are forced to empathize for just under eighty minutes with someone you wouldn’t even recognize on the street afterwards. The viewer wants to care about the fate of the protagonist, but the Chile-born Court does not make it easy for him or her. Because the empathy for the main character has to be pulled from the toes of the viewer, the Chilean runs the risk that his audience drops out disappointed.

For those who don’t, only the beautiful cinematography remains. It is obvious what Court’s real craft is and he lets cameraman Mauro Herce spoil the viewer with fairytale scenes in the garden, which gets an almost golden glow due to the combination of fog and sunlight. The film fragments in the lush garden contrast sharply with the dark, gloomy images filmed in the house. And of course you can let your imagination work: what goes through the butler’s mind? What does he think of the revamp his home is undergoing? Does he see his future as gloomy as the viewer does? What in turn argues in favor of Court’s detached approach is that ‘Ocaso’ never feels directed or stylized: the viewer may feel like an outsider, but he does not have the idea of ​​watching a staged story. The fact that there are countless untold stories like Raphael’s makes the empathy a bit greater. Still, it would have been nicer if this specific story could touch the viewer more.