2021 Argentinian drama/ thriller Nocturna is divided into two separate films for good reason.
The first is Side A- The Great Old Man's Night and the second is Side B - Where the Elephants Go To Die. They differ in that the first is a full-length feature film with supernatural/ horror elements whereas the second part reflects upon the origins and characters of the first and feels more like a poetic art film with a run time of barely over an hour.
Now, I am trying not to base my review on my unadulterated admiration for writer/ director Gonzalo Calzada, but my opinion of this two-part masterpiece would be hard to rival upon viewing Nocturna.
Calzada is responsible for previous horror offerings such as 2018’s popular Luciferina, currently on Shudder. He is also responsible for the film that made it to my Top 5 all-time horrors, Resurrección (2015). The direction, special effects, haunting sound effects and score of Nocturna is reminiscent of both aforementioned films. The acting is formidable and undeniably gut-wrenching. Therefore, it is no surprise that Nocturna has such immensely emotional prowess.
Brute emotion and abject dread run hand in hand in Nocturna, but just like two unlikely lovers, the films break into two distinctly different nuances with the same objective – to addressthe loneliness of the neglected, those who live and walk in a world that has forgotten them. This brings us to the first film:
Nocturna: Side A - The Great Old Man's Night
Ulises is a hundred-year old man, facing his last night alive struggling with his regrets and torments of guilt after a lifetime of unresolved emotional issues. The entire film is set in an old apartment building where Ulises has lived for ages and we meet him on his final night. Getting to know his surroundings and his escalating signs of dementia, we are transported into his guilt-riddled fight for redemption.
The Great Old Man's Night runs the gamut with emotion, fueled by the impeccable acting skills of its cast, most notably veteran Argentinian actor Pepe Soriano (Ulises). His vulnerability and his ability to draw us into his mangled world of fading memories is phenomenal, forcing even the young and indifferent among us to feel the loneliness of old age and the confusing world around someone who is losing grip on reality. Along with the nagging love of his life, Dalia (Marilú Marini), Ulises is confronted by a terrifying woman who hammers on his apartment door, demanding to be let in. This is where the film turns into anunapologetic supernatural horror.
The camera work, colors and effects do a splendid job of creeping us out while we meet the ghosts of the apartment building. However, instead of using cheap jump scares and superficial make-up to impart the solemn presences, The Great Old Man's Night focuses on how mistakes can end up haunting us forever and uses despair and loneliness to convey the existence of the building’s specters.
Ulises and his battle with his life’s regrets (pertaining to his children) presents unresolved things as ghosts in their own right, not to mention his gradual descent into fear, lost memories and fading hope as we watch him grasp for a way to redeem himself. The catalyst of his redemption, ironically, is an angry suicide victim. She teaches Ulises to make his peace before it is too late, before he becomes trapped as a spirit in one place, regretting without end or change.
The Great Old Man's Night is a very emotional journey into the sunset world of old people and how they fight to hold on to memories that elude them. Along with some really scary scenes, the first film will leave you thinking about your own mortality for days after, but like a good desert after a heavy meal, the second film steps in to finish off the banquet with a smaller, different flavor.
Nocturna: Side B – Where the Elephants Go To Die
Where the Elephants Go To Die is a shorter film consisting mostly of monologues courtesy of the various ghosts from Ulises’ building. At first, it reconciles the art of photography as a metaphor for the human condition, losing one’s vitality in order to be preserved in memory.
Each specter speaks in relation to their own fate and what had driven them to their end before they could settle their problems. The film effectively portrays lost souls and trapped spirits as merely people caught in momentary madness, left to regret their choices for all eternity.
The film runs in silent film fashion via the point of view of the remnants of the apartment building. Flashing images from the first film become so intense that it induces either discomfort or epilepsy, so be careful going into Where the Elephants Go To Die.
The sheer poetry of the visuals and spoken word of Where the Elephants Go To Die is worthy of a standing ovation, although in places it becomes too much in the way of audiovisual repetition. Certainly, the latter is deliberately employed to communicate the hell of perpetual repetition and reliving one’s pain with no hope of resolution, but it goes on for a little too long. Speaking to the audience in images, we witness the endless loop of devastating events that they are forced to endure, mad with impatient comprehension – or lack thereof.
Again, the cinematography and score perfectly represents the aspect of aging into neglect and sorrow. It portrays life as a metamorphosis of incidents that ultimately traps us if we do not change before we die. If Nocturna had a smell, it would be that of a deserted room full of textbooks and rotten flowers from the basement of a forgotten bomb shelter or bunker. Pure, absolute, beautiful dread.
—Tasha Danzig