To Kill a ManWhen the system fails, what can a man do to protect his family? Jorge (Daniel Candia) is a forester, a caretaker who is mugged one night by a group of hoodlums, led by the vicious ringleader, Kalule (Daniel Antivilo). When Jorge's son, Jorgito (Ariel Mateluna) attempts to buy back his father's stolen cell phone that same night, Jorgito is shot by Kalule. Two years later, Kalule is released from prison, and immediately sets to torment Jorge and his family yet again, vandalizing their property and molesting his daughter. Pushed to the brink, Jorge acts to end Kalule's relentless mayhem in the only definitive way he can.
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To Kill a Man is a Chilean drama which addresses the very plausible situation of a man who is not a bad man who is forced by an unwinnable series of events to, in fact, kill a man for seemingly noble reasons. Although Jorge is portrayed as a mile-mannered man, there is a looming sense that there is the capability of severe action within him. The score periodically intones a sustained note which is not unlike a tea kettle coming to a boil, representing his own inner turmoil. Jorge is, however, likable and also shy. Our earliest introduction to him show a man who works hard, commutes to and from his job by bus, and even ponders numbered birthday candles for a cake for his family. Conversely, there is no sense of sympathy cultivated for the local thugs who accost Jorge in the questionable neighborhood he and his family live in. Kalule is so detestable, that when he mugs Jorge, he mocks him about his credit, avoiding stealing his credit card under the auspices that he will "end up paying his bills". He viciously takes Jorge's insulin medicine, just to be hurtful, as well. Perhaps Jorgito goes to try to rebuy the stolen phone because he considers his father "unmanly" for being mugged, but when he himself is shot, it emphasizes the lack of humanity of the devilish crook, further compounded when Kalule shoots himself to make it appear that the attack was in self-defense. Kalule's sentence is negligible, and frankly an insult, when after his incarceration, there is no contrition, no remorse, and in fact, the monster comes back with a vengeance. It is bad enough that the incident was devastating for Jorge's family, provoking a divorce between him and his wife, Marta (Alejandra Yáñez), but that it should continue, and that the impotent law is incapable of defending "good" people like Jorge and Marta is a cruel joke. A brief scene on the property Jorge tends involving a squatter starting a fire emphasizes that Jorge is in a world which is ruled not by good people, but one which defends crooks who will act without morality and without standards until threatened with decisive action. To Kill a Man is the kind of movie which makes one want to embrace a conceal-and-carry stance on self-defense.
Although Jorge's quality of life has deteriorated following the trial--he lives alone in a hostel, and spends his nights at strip clubs--it is easy to sympathize with the family man who still stays cordial with his ex-wife and actively wants to protect her and his children from Kalule's guerrilla attacks. In many ways, To Kill a Man resembles the American film, Cape Fear, where the unwholesome ex-con returns to destroy the family he associates with his incarceration, refusing to acknowledge his own evil, with the father forced to break a legal system which has proven impotent in defending his loved ones. There are numerous scenes where Jorge and Marta make statements to the police, pursue a restraining order, and so on; they play by the rules, but the rules only matter to those who know how to manipulate them. There is no sense that the legal system even cares about Jorge and his family; the DA refuses to even investigate his complaints following his daughter's sexual assault until after the weekend, but the police sure turn up to investigate Jorge when Kalule is reported missing. When Jorge kidnaps Kalule and transports him by truck to a secluded place, Kalule barks threats and curses at Jorge--while simultaneously and anachronistically bargaining for his life. Never for a minute are we led to believe that what Jorge is doing isn't justified, isn't necessary. It is like putting down a rabid dog, one who will never change and remit in its attacks. Killing Kalule is an act of revenge, but it is also almost an act of responsibility. Following Kalule's demise, the shade of guilt accompanies Jorge, because Jorge is not a criminal, and he is not a natural born killer. Although it is not said, one suspects that Jorge is a man of faith, even if he falters in his convictions.
To Kill a Man ominously ends with a message that the film is based on a true story, which leads one to question the events which follow the end of the movie. Would Jorge have been convicted of the crime of premeditated murder? Would his sentence have been even more severe than that of Kalule before him? The implication of these hypothetical questions is that Jorge is railroaded from the start into being a victim of a more complicated crime than merely being mugged and harassed, but of being guilty of being a "good person" in a society which is irresponsible in its defense of the meek and civil, and affords monsters a slap on the wrist instead of any real justice. The moments which reinforce this are abundant: the sound of a shot ringing out in the dead of night, accompanied by the wails of Jorgito as Jorge discovers his bleeding son; Jorge's daughter, Nicole (Jennifer Salas), desperately trying to escape the clutches of Kalule, as he slaps her and runs his hand up her skirt; Kalule pelting rocks at their house at dinner, shouting curses, only to be followed the next day with the pointless complaints in the hopes of obtaining an altogether useless restraining order. You might ask yourself, "why does Jorge and his family live in such a bad neighborhood; why don't they just move"? Is it fair to allow crooks free reign over the streets, letting them win out of fear? Is it not better to defend hearth and home from the threat of monstrous action than to sink into the darkness, and allow the predators free reign? Even were these aspirations a part of Jorge's ultimate action, shouldn't it be simple enough that a government ostensibly designed to protect its people should prevent these kinds of life-altering decisions from being made by good people in the first place?
Recommended for: Fans of a challenging and naturalistic suspense film and drama, one which poses tough questions about a citizens involvement in self-defense versus that of the government and its role in the defense of its people, when criminals do not take the threat of legal action seriously, only adverse action itself.
Although Jorge's quality of life has deteriorated following the trial--he lives alone in a hostel, and spends his nights at strip clubs--it is easy to sympathize with the family man who still stays cordial with his ex-wife and actively wants to protect her and his children from Kalule's guerrilla attacks. In many ways, To Kill a Man resembles the American film, Cape Fear, where the unwholesome ex-con returns to destroy the family he associates with his incarceration, refusing to acknowledge his own evil, with the father forced to break a legal system which has proven impotent in defending his loved ones. There are numerous scenes where Jorge and Marta make statements to the police, pursue a restraining order, and so on; they play by the rules, but the rules only matter to those who know how to manipulate them. There is no sense that the legal system even cares about Jorge and his family; the DA refuses to even investigate his complaints following his daughter's sexual assault until after the weekend, but the police sure turn up to investigate Jorge when Kalule is reported missing. When Jorge kidnaps Kalule and transports him by truck to a secluded place, Kalule barks threats and curses at Jorge--while simultaneously and anachronistically bargaining for his life. Never for a minute are we led to believe that what Jorge is doing isn't justified, isn't necessary. It is like putting down a rabid dog, one who will never change and remit in its attacks. Killing Kalule is an act of revenge, but it is also almost an act of responsibility. Following Kalule's demise, the shade of guilt accompanies Jorge, because Jorge is not a criminal, and he is not a natural born killer. Although it is not said, one suspects that Jorge is a man of faith, even if he falters in his convictions.
To Kill a Man ominously ends with a message that the film is based on a true story, which leads one to question the events which follow the end of the movie. Would Jorge have been convicted of the crime of premeditated murder? Would his sentence have been even more severe than that of Kalule before him? The implication of these hypothetical questions is that Jorge is railroaded from the start into being a victim of a more complicated crime than merely being mugged and harassed, but of being guilty of being a "good person" in a society which is irresponsible in its defense of the meek and civil, and affords monsters a slap on the wrist instead of any real justice. The moments which reinforce this are abundant: the sound of a shot ringing out in the dead of night, accompanied by the wails of Jorgito as Jorge discovers his bleeding son; Jorge's daughter, Nicole (Jennifer Salas), desperately trying to escape the clutches of Kalule, as he slaps her and runs his hand up her skirt; Kalule pelting rocks at their house at dinner, shouting curses, only to be followed the next day with the pointless complaints in the hopes of obtaining an altogether useless restraining order. You might ask yourself, "why does Jorge and his family live in such a bad neighborhood; why don't they just move"? Is it fair to allow crooks free reign over the streets, letting them win out of fear? Is it not better to defend hearth and home from the threat of monstrous action than to sink into the darkness, and allow the predators free reign? Even were these aspirations a part of Jorge's ultimate action, shouldn't it be simple enough that a government ostensibly designed to protect its people should prevent these kinds of life-altering decisions from being made by good people in the first place?
Recommended for: Fans of a challenging and naturalistic suspense film and drama, one which poses tough questions about a citizens involvement in self-defense versus that of the government and its role in the defense of its people, when criminals do not take the threat of legal action seriously, only adverse action itself.