Carlos (2010)
Directed by Olivier Assayas

Film Review

Between the popular myth of Carlos the Jackal and the scant and contradictory facts about the man (Ilich Ramírez Sánchez) there is a vast grey area which allows considerable scope for speculation about the 20th century's most infamous terrorist. The Carlos that is presented in Olivier Assayas's monumental film biography could hardly be further from the demonic caricature that was broadcast by the world's media in the 1970s and '80s.  Far from being an insuperable criminal mastermind and the principal architect of international terrorism, Assayas's Carlos cuts a pathetic figure - a narcissistic, undisciplined and ineffectual self-publicist who constantly compromises his revolutionary ideals through a combination of vanity, ineptitude and desire for self-preservation.  No wonder the man who was once the world's most wanted criminal tried to prevent this film from being made - the characterisation is far from flattering.

Carlos's decline from terrorist superstar to humiliated prisoner of the French state follows the trajectory of a Greek tragedy which at times resembles the cruellest of black comedies.  As the cock ups accumulate and his former allies and paymasters desert him, Carlos is reduced to a pot-bellied fugitive with crippling testicular ailments, frantically trying to evade justice whilst satisfying his over-developed libido and clinging to his old delusions.  In the scheme of things, Carlos is far less important than the legacy he leaves behind - a world scarred by increasingly vile acts of terrorism perpetrated by fanatical extremists who believe that terror is a legitimate weapon against the world's injustices.   But how much of this is down to Carlos himself and how much can be attributed to the sensation-seeking world press, who not only gave the terrorists the publicity that is so essential to their cause but also created a lasting myth out of a mere gun-toting thug with a power complex?

The film makes it clear at the outset that this is not a documentary but a fictionalised account of Carlos's life based on known historical fact.  Yet the film (particularly its full five and half hour version) is so meticulous in its detail and authoritative in its presentation that it seems to resonate with truth and is certainly a more convincing portrayal of Carlos than the myth that was concocted by the world media.   This is not a film that questions the morality of terrorism.  Its approach is non-didactic, non-judgemental, and it makes no attempt to justify or condemn the actions of its main protagonist.  Rather, it offers an intelligent and probing exploration of a completely warped personality.  It gives a human face to someone who has been consistently portrayed in the media as a soulless monster and attempts to unpick the man from the myth.  As despicable as his acts may be, as grotesque as his character flaws are, this interpretation of Carlos is one that engages our sympathies.  Denuded of the robes of invincibility and villainous face-mask which the world's reporters once clothed him in, he is reduced to a pretty lamentable specimen of humanity, swathed in lunatic delusions, manic self-belief and a sickeningly bloated amour-propre.

In what is assuredly one of the most remarkable screen performances in a decade, Édgar Ramírez brings extraordinary energy, psychological depth and humanity to the film.  Not only does he humanise Carlos, he somehow manages to make some sense of the mass of inconsistencies that made up his character.   On the face if it, there is little to connect the self-loving playboy, the pathetic fugitive and the dedicated terrorist who could pick up plaudits from Saddam Hussein, and yet Ramírez succeeds in bringing all of these disparate facets of Carlos's character together and makes him  a plausible, and almost likeable, individual. For the sake of verisimilitude, the actor put on 15 kilogrammes whilst making the film, so that the middle-aged slob we see at the end of the film bears scant resemblance to the athletic revolutionary that we saw at the beginning.  Spookily, Ramírez does not only share a name with Carlos, but he also hails from the same country (Venezuela) and is multilingual (fluent in five languages).  He is also an extremely charismatic and talented actor with an electrifying screen presence.  Ramírez's portrayal is as true to life as it is fascinating to watch, and is the main reason why the film is so utterly compelling. 

Carlos is also a personal triumph for its director, Olivier Assayas, his most ambitious, grandest and most inspired film to date - a massive departure from his previous low-key dramas Clean (2004) and L'Heure d'été (2008).  Whilst epic in its scope, the film has the same beguiling intimacy of Assayas's previous dramas and is more a character study than an action film, although its action sequences are exceptionally well handled.  The film's dramatic high point is the 1975 OPEC siege, which marked the zenith of of Carlos's terrorist career and also the turning point in his fortunes.  The sequence is both mesmerising and chilling, bringing home the terrifying reality of terrorism whilst exposing the flaws that will subsequently propel Carlos to his ignominious doom.  When the beret-wearing revolutionary states, in a rare moment of introspection, that he is a mere pawn in the game of history, he says more than he knows.  Far from serving the cause of the oppressed of the Third World, he and his kind are merely the hired assassins of those who have a vested interest in preserving the status quo and stoking the fires of anti-Zionist sentiment.  Although the bulk of the action takes place in the 1970s, the film is surprisingly relevant to our own troubled times and what is perhaps most striking is how little the geopolitical situation in the Middle East has changed in the intervening years.

Carlos was originally seen as a three-part television series which ran to just under five and a half hours and was first broadcast in France in the spring of 2010.  Subsequently, it was given a theatrical release in a cut down version, two hours and 45 minutes in duration.  The decision of the organising committee of the Cannes Film Festival to exclude it from the competition in 2010 has fuelled the debate over the relative merits of films made for television and the cinema.  This is of particular concern in France, since presently around seventy per cent of so-called cinema films are largely financed by the main television companies (TFI, France Télévision, Canal+, Arte and TV5) and aired on the small screen almost immediately after their national theatrical run has completed.  Meanwhile, many films that are made for television prove to be of exceptional quality and some go on to enjoy theatrical releases not only in France, but internationally. 

Carlos throws into sharp relief the absurdity and injustice of the TV/cinema demarcation, since it is a perfect example of a film that functions equally well in both formats, as well as being a superlative piece of cinema in its own right.  Its dual release gave it an audience that it was unlikely to receive through a purely theatrical showing, and moreover the complete 326 minute epic version would probably never have been made if it had been intended purely for the cinema.  The film's exclusion from the 2011 Césars Awards Ceremony is as bewildering as its omission from Cannes, and shows that perhaps the time has come for awards committees to revise their acceptance criteria.  Carlos is unquestionably one of the film highlights of 2010 and it seems absurd and criminally unfair than neither its director nor its lead actor should receive recognition for his outstanding work.  In either of its two versions, Carlos is a major achievement, by far the most compelling, the most authentic and most brilliantly constructed French film of 2010.

Film Synopsis

A legend in his own lifetime, Carlos the Jackal (né Ilich Ramírez Sánchez) was at the epicentre of international terrorism in the 1970s and '80s.  He was both an extreme leftwing activist and opportunistic mercenary, selling his services to political organisations in the Middle East, whilst building up his own terrorist network behind the Iron Curtain.  This film follows the exploits of this contradictory character, right up until the day he fell into the hands of the French police in 1994.