“Z” Review

Original Z posterOne of the crucial lessons of 20th century politics is that authoritarianism is unsustainable in the long run, because people are naturally inclined to be free and the information that will allow them to be free will eventually, inevitably leak out.  One or two people might be able to keep a secret, but an entire government cannot.  The “9/11 Truth Movement” is ludicrous for that reason, as is the recent “Birther” phenomenon and the more fantastical theories regarding the Kennedy assassination.  Truth might be stranger than fiction, but when it comes to government, usually the simplest explanation is the correct one.

Costa Garvas’s Z, the 1969 lampoon of governmental malfeasance—specifically, the 1963 assassination of Greek politician Gregoris Lambrakis and the would-be military cover-up that followed—is a bit more cynical about the chances for truth to shine through.  Not only is the good-hearted, peace-loving politician gunned down—actually, clubbed down—in the height of his rhetorical powers, but the man who uncovers the conspiracy behind the killing is punished and those responsible are all but exonerated.  What gives?

The film’s title is an allusion to a Greek slogan, “He lives.”  In this case, “he” refers to the Deputy (Yves Montand), the film’s stand-in for Lambrakis, whose death represents a martyrdom of sorts and a call to arms for his left-wing supporters against right-wing military rule.  We have seen similar demonstrations of defiance to iron-fisted regimes since 1969, and they have often come in the form of lone individuals.  In 1989, the Tiananmen Square crackdown in China was encapsulated by that one anonymous man standing in front of the tanks.  Similarly, the immediate legacy of the Iranian uprising this past spring centered on Neda Agha-Soltan, a private citizen whose violent death in the streets, captured on video, was seen by millions around the world and was instrumental in driving the protesters to march on.

Because Z is a satire, it is not so much about a massive popular revolt as it is about the shenanigans that fester at the top, as uncovered by a lone enterprising photojournalist, played by Jean-Louis Trintignant.  As the Deputy is a stand-in for an actual politician, so does the investigator represent a real-life sleuth in the Greek case, namely Christos Sartzetakis, who would later serve as a Supreme Court justice and, from 1985 to 1990, the president of Greece.  However, he spent an awful lot of time either in jail or in exile before getting that far, and Z is a very angry film about the injustices that often fall on the very people most needing the law on their side.

The nonsense begins with an enormously foreboding sequence in which the organizers of a major speech by the Deputy are forced to change the venue and prepare for a counter-demonstration.  As the Deputy crosses what is indeed an impressive turnout of right-wing agitators, he sets himself up for a turkey shoot that results in a nasty bump on the head before reaching the auditorium to speak.  When the speech is over, he makes a similarly dangerous walk back to his car and is met by a seemingly out-of-control vehicle carrying three men and a club.  The man carrying the club strikes the Deputy to the ground, in plain view of all those present, and the resulting wounds eventually lead to the Deputy’s death.

Law enforcement’s actions in the aftermath of the assassination are shown as all-too-obviously fraudulent in stacking the deck against the plain truth of what happened in the streets that night.  The police and the military successfully (for a time) turn the incident into a Rashomon scenario, with different people remembering the same event differently.  The word “assassination” isn’t even allowed to appear in the official report.  It’s like the FBI man telling a witness in Oliver Stone’s JFK, “You didn’t hear four shots—you heard echoes.”

Watching Z, I was reminded a bit of the 1949 classic The Third Man, where Joseph Cotton’s impromptu sleuthing uncovers a plot so convoluted that he mistakes his own best friend for dead until very late into the story.  That film took place in Vienna in the dirty aftermath of World War II, when the paranoia of the Cold War was barely underway.  Z is a natural continuation of that darker side of a European society unsure of its values, its purpose or its prospects for a free future.

-Dan Seliber

“Z” is rated PG (Parental guidance suggested). Physical and political violence.  Despite rating, not particularly for kids.

Plays at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, December 9-13

Directed by Costra Gavris; written by Jorge Semprun, based on the novel “Z” by Vasilis Vasilikos; director of photography, Raoul Coutard; edited by Francoise Bonnot; music by Mikis Theodorakis; production designer, Jacques D’Ovidio; produced by Philippe d’Argila and Eric Schlumberger; released by Rialto Pictures. Running time: 2 hours 7 minutes.

WITH: Yves Montand (The Deputy), Irene Papas (The Deputy’s wife), Jean-Louis Trintignant (The Examining Magistrate), Jacques Perrin (Photojournalist

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