THE STORY – Take No Prisoners offers unprecedented access to America’s top hostage negotiator, Roger Carstens, as he battles to free LA public defender Eyvin Hernandez from a notorious Venezuelan prison called “The House of Dreams.” The film captures the raw, emotional fight of Eyvin’s family as they pressure the president for action. With rare behind-the-scenes moments—from tense White House meetings to chaotic Caracas streets—this gripping documentary exposes the dangerous, high-stakes world of US hostage recoveries, filled with setbacks, breakthroughs, and relentless determination.
THE CAST – Roger Carstens, Jake Sullivan, Antony Blinken, Henry Martinez, Pedro Martinez, Matthew Heath, Osman Khan, Drew Havens, Juan Gonzalez & David Cotter
THE TEAM – Adam Ciralsky & Subrata De (Directors/Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 99 Minutes
Political documentaries always need to be watched with a cautious eye. It’s next to impossible for a film that merely touches the world of politics to not either make a statement or take a stand, even if unintentionally. Not all of these nonfiction works will be as obviously agenda-driven as, say, the films of Michael Moore, but any documentary that features even the briefest soundbite from an elected official can be assumed to lack objectivity by its very nature. “Take No Prisoners” is wholly entrenched in the world of geopolitics. Specifically, it focuses on the work of Roger Carstens, who held the lengthy federal title of Special Presidential Envoy for Hostage Affairs (SPEHA) from 2020 to early 2025. Notably, he was one of the few State Department officials who worked under both the first Trump and Biden administrations. To sum up his position, Carstens was essentially the head hostage negotiator for the United States government, working to free American citizens held in captivity and wrongfully imprisoned by foreign regimes. With “Take No Prisoners,” filmmakers Adam Ciralsky and Subrata De examine Carstens’ methods, doing so in an undeniably inspiring way (he’s unquestionably good at his job), but uses an attempted politically-neutral perspective that raises questions about the purposes of shining such an unquestioningly flattering light on US governmental practices.
The film smartly focuses on one specific case that Carstens worked on: The wrongful imprisonment of American public defender Eyvin Hernandez in Venezuela. Hernandez was on vacation in South America when he was captured at the Colombian-Venezuelan border for refusing to pay a bribe. He was held captive at the ironically-named Casa de los Sueños, or “House of Dreams,” an infamous prison in Caracas, Venezuela, under the false charges of conspiracy and association to commit crimes against the state. The Venezuelan government used Hernandez, along with a handful of other American prisoners, as political pawns to try and leverage the release of prisoners held in America. And although the other Americans were released, Hernandez remained in Venezuela simply because the US government had not yet designated him as wrongfully imprisoned.
“Take No Prisoners” only mentions this upsetting fact without delving into it at all. Hernandez was eventually given this label, which allowed Carstens to begin negotiating for his release, but as with so many potentially contentious issues centering around the American federal government’s decisions, the film doesn’t look into this injustice in any way. Instead, it focuses on Hernandez’s family – in particular, his brother Henry – and their tireless fight to keep Eyvin’s name in the collective mind of the government. Again, the film does little with the notion that Hernandez’s family feels the need to work tirelessly to bring attention to Eyvin, which begs the question: Would the government have pursued his case with the energy it did if not for his family? “Take No Prisoners” is uninterested in such potentially troubling queries, instead focusing on the successes of Carstens and, thus, of the US government.
Carstens himself is framed in an unbelievably flattering manner. His successful extractions and swaps are rightfully highlighted. He even playfully compares the last-minute nature of many prisoner exchanges to “one of those really bad military movies,” a charming way for the film to draw subtle parallels between Carstens and the macho figures that save the day in Hollywood war movies. But much like those movies, the unquestioning pro-military messages ripple underneath the surface of “Take No Prisoners” are worth pointing out. When detailing his bona fides, he says, without a hint of irony, that he joined the US Army because it’s “the largest, most successful human rights organization the world’s ever created.” As if the absurdity of this statement wasn’t enough, the filmmakers underscore this segment with the kind of swelling, triumphant music that might accompany an informational video at a Washington DC war memorial.
Although the music in that one sequence is corny and obvious, Nathan Matthew David’s score throughout the rest of the film is perfect. It has a propulsive drive that gives the documentary the feeling of a thriller. The film is also well-paced, thanks to the tight editing that moves the film along and keeps the subjects – namely Carstens and Hernandez’s family – centered. To the film’s credit, as much time is spent with the family as with the lead negotiator, ensuring viewers are always aware of the family and the troubles they’re going through.
“Take No Prisoners” tells an undeniably compelling story, although it fails to completely sell just why it’s telling it in the first place, or at least why it’s telling it in this way. The documentary is very, very kind to the US government, with the Hernandez family’s frustrations only given a cursory mention (and just as quickly dispelled with an emphasis on Carstens’ typical successes). Obviously, given the general conservative leaning of the federal government – no matter which party is in charge – any film giving such a platform to Washington is worthy of at least a raised eyebrow from viewers.
