THE STORY – Chile, 1992. Staying at her grandparents’ remote hotel near an Andean ski resort, Inés (9) befriends Hanna (15), a German skier. When Hanna vanishes without a trace, the search for her exposes hidden truths.
THE CAST – Maya O’Rourke, Maia Rae Domagala, Saskia Rosendahl, Jakub Gierszal, Paulina Urrutia & Mauricio Pesutic
THE TEAM – Manuela Martelli (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 108 Minutes
The perspective of a child witnessing a world they cannot yet comprehend is perhaps one of the most unsettling angles a film could commit to. Famously, films like “Pan’s Labyrinth,” “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas,” and “Petite Maman” all use a child- or young-adult-centered narrative to their advantage, where this particularly limiting perspective becomes integral to the tale at hand. When the viewer is placed on the same playing field as a child, information and context are often narrowed, yet the stakes become ultimately more heightened. This powerful aspect becomes even more effective when coupled with dark themes, abundant tension, and a stark, unforgiving environment.
Such is the case with Chilean writer-director Manuela Martelli’s sophomore effort, “The Meltdown” (“El Deshielo”), which premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in the Un Certain Regard section. Set in the early ’90s in the stark Andes mountains of post-dictatorship Chile, the wintery crime drama follows young Ines (portrayed by an exemplary newcomer Maya O’Rourke), who lives at a ski resort nestled in the stunning yet remote Chilean mountaintops run by her family. Her parents are away on business, helping present an iceberg at the 1992 Universal Expo in Seville, a symbolic representation of Chile turning over a new leaf. But when a sudden, unsolved crime disrupts Ines’ quiet life, she begins to look at the adults and men in her life differently, questioning and deconstructing dubious aspects of their lives for perhaps the first time.
Young Ines spends her days as the only nine-year-old at the chalet by roaming around the resort; that is, if she’s not doing her schoolwork, translating guests’ inquiries for her grandmother, or playing with the lodge dogs under the dense snow-covered trees. Slightly lonely but fiercely independent, Ines seems to be doing a fine job of entertaining herself. Still, it’s when a German ski team (made up of mostly audacious teenage boys) comes to train at the chalet that Ines befriends the only girl on the team: 15-year-old Hanna (Maia Rae Domagala). Over the course of just a few days, the two become fast friends until Hanna, after an impromptu date night with Ines’ own cousin, suddenly winds up disappearing into the swaying pines and swirling winter snow. Hanna’s mother, Lina (an enthralling Saskia Rosendahl), shows up demanding answers and ultimately forms an endearing companionship with Ines, who acts as her tiny translator and investigative sidekick.
“The Meltdown” has a lot on its plate, from political undertones (Ines herself serves as an emblem of a new generation of Chilean democracy) to a middling deconstruction of patriarchy through a child’s eyes to a thorough portrayal of motherhood and female friendship. There are apathetic and inept police detectives, Hanna’s slightly dodgy ski instructor, and Ines’ own delinquent cousin, whom most would agree deserve scrutiny. There are power plays at hand and untruths being told, and beneath the snowy stage of it all lie the looming memories of colonialism and the haunting sense of unrest and unspoken atrocities from not too long ago.
The performances in “The Meltdown” are exemplary, with the emerging child actor O’Rourke impressively carrying the majority of the film solo on her petite shoulders. She flows between languages flawlessly and carries the air of someone who feels as though they should be several feet taller, or at least years older. Rosendahl is also captivating as a fiercely desperate mother, showing up midway through the film and bringing a much-needed feminine frustration to the remote mountainside. Though decades apart in age, O’Rourke and Rosendahl’s scenes together quickly become the pulsing heart that carries the film through its latter half, despite a somewhat glacial pace that at times seems keen on mimicking Chile’s own Universal Expo iceberg.
Despite being a truly melting slow burn, “The Meltdown” is frozen over, thanks to excellent technical craftsmanship that elevates the sleepy thriller. Cinematographer Benjamin Echazarreta captures a stunning Andean landscape and presents the stark environment with a blend of breathtaking beauty and chilling eeriness. Echazarreta’s atmospheric camerawork hints at disturbing secrets beneath the sparkling snow and whispers of atrocities untold in the frigid breeze, a breeze that not even the warmth of a chalet fireplace can thaw. Adding to the distressing tone is Maria Portugal’s (“Chile ’76“) striking score, constructed from shrieking strings and shiver-inducing brass, which only adds another layer of ominous whimsy to the film’s darkly congested atmosphere. Another notable aspect is the detailed, immersive sound design by Javier Umpierrez, who elevates “The Meltdown” to another level with crisp, hypnotic work that turns the Chilean winter itself into a character that sings and whispers.
“The Meltdown” is a slow burn that never reaches the level of tension or payoff one might hope for, but it remains a well-acted and compelling crime thriller nonetheless. Though it never quite finds its footing, the film still boasts an astonishingly unique location, excellent performances, and immersive technical craftsmanship that uplift the genre material. What it lacks in plot, Maya O’Rourke makes up for with a lead child performance that deserves discussion at length, set against a backdrop that is an utter feast for the eyes.
“The Meltdown” may be set in an unforgivingly frigid place with an equally chilly history, where perhaps only the snow-laden pine boughs know the truth. Still, the audience isn’t privy to any more honesty than our endearing nine-year-old protagonist. This level of vulnerability and incomplete perception (which we share with young Ines) makes things all the more disturbing. It isn’t unlike what it’s like to be an adult today in a forever-changing, politically divided world determined to influence and manipulate the truth at any and all costs.
