THE STORY – Misael works alone. Armed with his axe, he fells trees in the forest. An unexpected responsibility upends his life, and the rhythm of his days gradually dissolves into a wilderness where human reason no longer holds meaning.
THE CAST – Misael Saavedra & Catalina Saavedra
THE TEAM – Lisandro Alonso (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 100 Minutes
The moment “La Libertad” screened at the 2001 Cannes Film Festival, Argentine filmmaker Lisandro Alonso established himself as one of the most promising Latin American talents of his generation. Premiering in the Un Certain Regard competition, the film aptly captures the daily rituals of Misael, a young Argentine woodcutter who aimlessly wanders the dry region of the Sierras Pampeanas in search of lumber. He lives frugally in a rugged tent, where his valuables consist of cooking utensils, clothing, and a portable radio that serves as his sole source of connection to the outside world. Working as his own boss, Misael provides for himself. Equipped with an axe, a shovel, and a handy chainsaw, Alonso captures the mundanity of Misael’s thankless occupation. Portraying its onscreen action in real time, where Misael’s exhaustion is felt throughout the film’s static long takes, “La Libertad” forces the viewer to empathize with the film’s silent protagonist restlessly.
“La Libertad” is an ode to ordinary occurrences, spotlighting the monotonous work ethic of an isolated woodsman. When the film reaches its circular finale, Misael’s comfort level with his profession unveils his character’s interiority. While he’s alone in the wilderness, Alonso understands that his protagonist isn’t lonely. Content with the bare essentials and the quaintness of his scrappy abode, the film’s ambiguous title reflects Misael’s acceptance of his unconventional lifestyle. Alonso suggests that real freedom can only be achieved with the right attitude. Misael lives in healthy harmony with his natural surroundings. The flux of capitalism is what ultimately holds him back from achieving complete freedom, forcing him to engage in a monetary system for survival. While it’s been approximately 25 years since Alonso first premiered his slow-moving debut, the first entry in Alonso’s “La Libertad” series continues to interrogate the perceptions of class and self-worth with a timeless tale of acceptance.
Returning to his earliest roots as a filmmaker, Lisandro Alonso revisits the desolation of the Sierras Pampeanas with his unlikely sequel “La Libertad Doble” (or, in English, “Double Freedom”). The project originated from Alonso’s desire to return to the basics, to relive the freedom of working on minimalist sets without the pressures of international producers. Yearning for the same crew, cast, locations, and energy from his first time working as a professional filmmaker, “Double Freedom” is most rewarding when watched in close succession with the preceding entry.
The present quite literally mirrors the past, as Misael repeats the same ordinary tasks from the original film. Misael has since upgraded his home from a tent to a makeshift structure made from recycled metal and lumber from his depository. On first glance, the only significant revision to his character is his preference for cutting instruments, where the convenience and reliance of a chainsaw eases the workload at an older age. It isn’t until Alonso purposefully disorients the trajectory of his familiar story that “Double Freedom” begins to carry new contextual meaning. While in the first film Alonso hints at Misael’s family in a scene where he briefly speaks to a family member over the phone, the sequel breaks the illusion of Misael’s complete solitude by incorporating his distant sister into the narrative.
The deliberate narrative detour explores a facet of current-day Argentine policy, where Misael is forced by law to take in his disabled sibling when the local psychiatric hospital closes down. Institutionalized for over fifteen years, Micaela is handed over to Misael’s custody. With only a drug prescription to numb his sister’s impulsive behavior, Misael unconditionally takes Micaela under his wing. Shuttered by the state, “Double Freedom” reflects upon the real budget cuts that have led to reductions in health, education, housing, labor, and social protection in Argentina. When Misael enters the defunct ward, we first overhear one of the practitioners audibly ranting off-screen. Venting about the lack of resources and funding from the state, the practitioner claims he’s forced to pay out of his own pocket to sustain his patients’ livelihoods and humanity.
Alonso refuses to sugarcoat the extremities of the ongoing crisis. Ignited by Javier Millei’s libertarian government, the notorious political figure has eradicated essential social services in favor of corrupt financial gain. The universality of Alonso’s harrowing narrative deviation will be instantly relatable to any viewer who is currently experiencing the mass privatization of healthcare services in their country. “Double Freedom” ponders the philosophical implications of Misael’s sudden shift in responsibility, questioning if the protagonist’s freedom is compromised as a byproduct of state negligence. In a sense, “Double Freedom” does what any strong sequel should accomplish: it expands upon the original’s world through its essential allusions.
Alonso doesn’t reveal any conclusive answers, allowing for his performer’s naturalism to imply the subtext. Misael Saavedra, who portrays Misael in both entries, delivers a minimalist but powerful performance. The performance’s subtlety is most effective when Alonso accentuates Saavedra’s glances, unveiling the character’s internalized anxieties and fears through the stillness and muted concern in his stern visage. Accentuating the diegetic silence that allows the natural ambiance to swarm the tranquil soundscape, Alonso’s creative limitations purposefully interrogate the notion of freedom in the present day. Misael’s minutiae embrace the tranquility of his nomadic lifestyle, as Micaela’s rekindling with the land reinforces Alonso’s thematic preoccupations with freedom and liberty. There’s a sense of security and serenity when Micaela gently brushes her hand against the bark of a mossy tree, slowly returning to the order of nature in these quiet moments.
Whereas “La Libertad” is timeless, its sequel is timely. Alonso immortalizes the working class, whose agency and autonomy are rarely explored in contemporary cinema without classist contempt. Playing against the conflict-driven storytelling that exploits impoverished communities onscreen, Alonso’s resistance to traditional narrative structures culminates in an isolating directorial exercise that effectively returns to the source of Misael’s mundane mantra. Some viewers might consider Alonso’s slow-moving form arduous and alienating. Yet, with his latest feature, Alonso justifies his narrative expansion through the ferocity of his social critique. Leaving room for ambiguity in his final act, “Double Freedom” offers a hopeful, if inconclusive, finale that trusts its characters to find inner peace amid a turbulent, unpredictable world.
