THE STORY – Amid the chaos of the 1985 Palace of Justice siege in Bogotá, a group of guerrillas, magistrates, and civilians become trapped in a bathroom while hell breaks loose around them. For over 27 hours, their forced confinement reveals the deepest aspects of human nature: fear, convictions, contradictions, and the desperate need to survive. Outside, tanks and fire; inside, words as weapons.
THE CAST – Natalia Reyes, Santiago Alarcón & Juan Prada
THE TEAM – Tomás Corredor (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 78 Minutes
It is increasingly rare for an all-in-one-day (or, even rarer cases, an all-in-one-room) film to build a world so meticulously within its confines that it convinces its audience that what is unfolding outside of the picture’s few walls matters just as much as what is being witnessed in the foreground. Even rarer is one that doesn’t reduce its significance to the fact that the events showcased are being delivered on a compressed timeline. That Colombian writer/director Tomás Corredor’s “Noviembre” manages to do both doesn’t make it a fluke; on the contrary, it signifies an intentional work of tension that views its spatial limitations as an asset, not a hindrance. In emailing with a member of the film’s team ahead of its world premiere at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival, the gravity of that crucial quality rang as true as the movie succeeds in making it. They wrote, plainly and graciously, that the film deserves one’s full attention and a one-sitting watch; otherwise, its meaning will be at risk of being lost.
As preposterous as it is to imagine a film critic not watching a film under review consideration with their full attention, let alone in multiple sittings, it has been done before and will be done again, but “Noviembre” adheres so strictly to the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it demands that many thrillers specifically inflate themselves in an effort to allot for glances elsewhere. In other words: don’t expect to find Corredor’s on a streaming service once it inevitably finds U.S. distribution, and if it does, do yourself a favor by creating the most theatrical-esque viewing conditions you can manage. That’s a worthwhile approach to watching films from home in general, and one that “Noviembre” requires.
Based on a “fundamental moment in Colombia’s history,” as the aforementioned team member noted in their emails, Corredor’s debut feature documents the November 6, 1985, siege on the Palace of Justice by the M-19 guerrilla group in Bogotá, a takeover that resulted in 43 total deaths, including 11 of the nation’s Supreme Court Justices and 13 total magistrates. The insurgents, named the “Iván Marino Ospina Company” for an M-19 commander who had been killed by the Colombian military a few months prior, held a judge hostage for his planned trial against the country’s president. Their motivations, clear and destined to lead to a single outcome despite the resistor’s hopes, make for a historical action feature’s ideal narrative. However, Corredor’s approach is far closer to Green Room than it is Civil War or any of the 23 Has Fallen duds.
Unfolding entirely in a bathroom where guerrilla militants plan and civilians are held hostage amidst the chaos, gunfire, and explosions routinely ring out, making each passing second of the film’s 78-minute runtime feel more vital than the previous. Federico González’s masterclass in sound design makes this hyper-cooped setting feel as if it’s at the center of the conflict, despite characters mentioning that it’s so far down the midlevel floor’s hall that no one would think to check it. (That is, if they could ever find it.)
Fictionalizing the film’s events but remaining true to the actual landmark tragedy’s facts in the process, Corredor has an acute sense of what creates cinematic tension, specifically the elements that extend beyond the disastrous calamities unfolding just beyond the restroom door. The nervous exchanges between guerrilla rebels — Natalia Reyes is sensational as Clara Helena, “Noviembre’s” central character and a committed yet despairing soldier who acknowledges the ramifications of her actions, no matter how justifiable she feels they are — and their hostages are the primary driving force in the film. Think of it as a squat-and-talk; the walking is kept to a minimum, anxious pacing taking its place.
The principal draw to a film like Corredor’s is likely this conceit/format, but the director also rejects the tendency to take one side over another. “Noviembre” emphasizes truth, even with its dramatization, working in archival footage in spurts to occasionally pull us out of the action, as if Corredor and co. Instinctively know we might need a breather. Yet there’s a resonance to the act of watching gut-wrenching violence as it plays out in a similar form, and not giving in to departures that feel like ham-fisted studio notes. That Corredor and his cast are aware that discussion and the presence of raw anguish from the siege’s participants — on both sides — make their film operate at maximum profundity. Vitality is another word that could work here, but in the presence of work like this, they all feel too small.
