Argies here exorcising a societal PTSD caused by decades of economic and political war, a dirty war that left thousands dead or disappeared, and the inability to make their way in the world without self-imploding once every decade or so. Alas, here the intent, I guess, is to surmount the PTSD, become a developed "European" country, leave all the Sudacas behind, and avoid that old Apocalypse. I couldn't make it to the end due to god-awful acting by the protagonist and wooden acting by most others. I'm afraid Keitel phoned it in and used his check to pay off the gardeners. The script feels like it was translated from Spanish directly into English without the massaging and coaxing of a proficient wordsmith. The lighting is so dark you can't see anything. Yes, it's a moody, dark sci-fi film, but come on. The actors dress like minor thugs at a boliche or at a seedy bar, waiting for some gringo to waltz in, order a stiff wisquecito and wonder where the tango-ing women be at. All we need is the hott owner's daughter to stand in the balcony and plead that the fates not cry for Argentina. That may have happened. I'll never know because I shut this drivel off after about 35 minutes.
Review of The Last Man
