A few hours have passed and I still haven’t fully digested New Order, Michel Franco’s much talked about film about the extreme consequences of social distress taken to the limit. The film’s a slap to the face, a loud scream of fiction that’s dividing audiences as this is being written, and generating enough buzz to be considered one of the most notorious pieces of cinema of the last decade. This isn’t one of those films that makes you feel dirty after watching it because of a violent aspect that’s hard to shake off. It’s just that the final arguments of the film are so poignant and risky, that even mentioning them makes me feel as if I’m part of a team assigned to justify the film. Needless to say, I’m not.
New Order isn’t a film that requires reason to be observed as good. Franco’s film is a clear adaptation of an idea that’s manipulated to portray an extremely fictional possibility. Yes, the whole film is encompassed in an array of social discomfort that’s taken place before, but this shouldn’t mean the film must be seen as realistic. The subject of the film’s controversy, the one that will touch the inner nerve of some cultures, is something sadly common, and this is where New Order gains the most attention from everyone.
Try to see New Order past its first and impacting layer of social consideration, and you will find a film about a human element that’s primitive and irremovable: the very essence of power and everything related to it, from the thirst for achieving it for no disclosed reason to vulgarly going beyond your limits for the sake of having more.
In New Order, a high-class wedding is taking place in a posh neighborhood in Mexico City. Everyone from celebrities to high-ranking politicians are attending the party. Outside the crystal walls of this part of the city, something appears to be happening. When a guest arrives having been sprayed with green paint, the other attendees seem horrified. There is a protest going on in the outskirts of the neighborhood. The whole city is engulfed with rebels proclaiming a message that’s alien to the attendees of the wedding. However, when a few of the protesters jump the wall and invade the party, the celebration comes to an end. The violent group seems to grow in a matter of seconds and tragedy strikes. Fortunately, some escape, but a swift feeling of safety becomes the first step into an unforeseen descent for Marianne (Naian González Norvind), the young bride who decided to be sympathetic at the last minute and was able to escape the mayhem.
There isn’t much mystery as to what is going on in the film. This has actually happened before and the unspeakable acts are part of history (for example, the civilian uprisings during the military dictatorship in Argentina, or more recently the widely known torture practices carried out in Venezuela). What works in the film is the thrilling element that defies the rules of the dramatic genre. It’s not only the jarring tale of a young woman suffering from the monstrous randomness of those holding power. It’s also the hair-raising story of a family discovering their new social condition while they try to do good. There’s an amazing sequence of silence showing how a mother and son travel through the different control checks installed by the state. One almost asks why they’re doing this and, even though the answer’s at hand (they need to save Marianne), one could accept that this is all part of their new normal.
The second act of the film definitely switches our first perception. It shatters expectations as the film confirms it’s not a personal journey of survival. It’s more of a cautionary tale about power, trust in the authorities, and the violence typical of absolute control over the people.
Without a main figure to attach ourselves to, the film is told from the perspective of those that are now part of a solution to Marianne’s issue. They’re an organic answer to a cold state. They are mere ants in a system that overlooks them for no reason at all, and in their ultimate effort to conserve empathy, they accept an offer they can’t refuse. In the backdrop, the radical protesters are condemned to be parasites of a system that is focused on control, without being afraid to show it. In this descent of humanity-based principles, nihilism becomes a lifestyle.
Franco’s New Order is divisive. I won’t delve into the supposed racism element in the film, because I just don’t see it. What some are considering to be key points in how characters are portrayed in the film, I found to be something that transcends an early evaluation and/or judgment. The party gets interrupted by people who are fighting for a cause that’s not even relevant to the film. It’s social discontent that surpasses the limits of human decency and prudence.
Many viewers decided to “stay” in this part of Franco’s statement and accuse the film of being provocative by showing skin color to be predominant on one side. A portrayal of social classes should go beyond a book’s cover. New Order is not a film about a specific part of society being victims of a higher entity. It’s more about how power decides to select who’s who in a game that’s so random it’s bone-chilling. Think about the sequences in those dark rooms with the civilians slathered on the floor. Does it feel like the film is considering them to be victims based on their skin color, or if they look rich or poor? My personal opinion is Franco sees beyond this, and merely produces a fictional setting that’s far from being realistic. New Order is never intended to be an adaptation of a past event. The outcome is far too horrific to consider.
There’s a direct statement in how violence is used in the film. Even if we naturally reject violence as an element of drama, the film’s initial setting follows an undeniable reality in current society: people are naturally angry and blunt reactions are almost normal. However, as the film unravels, the barbarity becomes more premeditated and the sadism of some acts follows a pattern of dominance. Its last scene speaks towards a more emotional layer. Even when we witness violence as a monster’s last resort, their eyes show us more. We know they are capable of more, and it’s in those unrevealed acts that the film’s spark of terror resides.
New Order’s storyline uses the element of hope in a dreadful environment to awake something natural in the viewer. We want wellness for every character, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. We’re past that. However, an abrupt twist reveals the bleaker truth behind human reactions and the film’s final backdrop. We are left speechless, hopeless, and terrified of final confirmation. Franco has shared a glimpse of hell on Earth, and it doesn’t have much to do with social discomfort or the unfairness in wealth. It has to do with something more primal: exercising power at any cost.
In terms of power and political absolutism, denigration of the human condition has more to do with a personal desire than race pondering. Let’s take Venezuela for example. The country’s social mechanism was remodeled after a man’s personal resentment and opinion. Anyone disagreeing with him had to be rich or white. However, history has taught us otherwise, and political moguls have sometimes used racism in their speech as a way to inflict fear, and imply that social value has anything to do with this. But New Order is not a political drama based on fact. It’s an appalling version of a nightmare that we can’t even dare to have.
