THE FRONTIER

He has been sentenced to internal exile for having signed a public letter denouncing the abduction of a colleague. The eccentric inhabi­tants of the island, and his two baffled would-be jailers in particular, assume that the teacher must have committed a very serious and possi­bly dangerous crime. He, in turn, is ironically non-committal. But it hardly matters. What harm could he do in this god-forsaken place? What, for that matter, is he to do here at all, besides sign in with authorities, first once a day, then every eight hours, and finally every four hours, an arbitrary punishment to remind him, and to assure his insecure guards, that they are doing their required duty to the last letter of an unwritten law?

Ricardo Larrain's first feature was award­ed the Silver Bear at this year's Berlin Film Fes­tival, justifiably so, as it represents the land of timely, moving Latin American filmmaking rarely seen now. Plotted m a non-linear style, the film traces the teacher's deepening under­standing of his own needs, motives, capabili­ties and responsibilities. Cut off from civilization, he has been thrust into an environ­ment controlled by nature's unpredictable rule, faith's uncertain sway, and history's often trau­matizing stamp. Only when the catastrophic force of nature intervenes does Orellana arrive at a conscious and uncompromising decision of his political stance.