A Notorious Dictator Becomes a Literal Vampire in the Haunting Chilean Satire 'El Conde' 

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• Courtesy Of Netflix
• An exorcist nun goes up against a right-wing vampire in Pablo Larraín's bizarre expressionist political satire.

Netflix may put out a lot of cookie-cutter content, but the streaming service is also still angling for awards. Witness El Conde ("The Count"), the latest from Chilean director Pablo Larraín, best known in the U.S. for his highly unconventional biopics Jackie and Spencer.

This, too, is a wacked-out biopic of sorts: Its subject is Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet, who took control of the country in a 1973 coup covertly supported by the U.S. Under his lengthy regime, thousands of dissidents were tortured and killed. And, in Larraín's satirical version of history, he's a literal vampire with a special fondness for consuming human hearts in smoothie form.

Nominated for the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival, El Conde is now streaming on Netflix.

The deal

The man we know as Augusto Pinochet (1915-2006) was actually born in 18th-century France as Claude Pinoche, an orphan vampire. (In Larraín's universe, you can be born with fangs. Just go with it.) As a young soldier, he witnessed the execution of Marie Antoinette and became a staunch enemy of all left-wing revolutionary movements, spiriting away the queen's severed head as a souvenir.

Fast-forward to the early 21st century. Under his new identity, Pinochet (Jaime Vadell) has become a general in the Chilean army, violently overthrown the country's socialist government, ruled for nearly 20 years, been deposed and finally faked his own death to escape accountability for his crimes. Now, with his wife (Gloria Münchmeyer) and his loyal henchman (Alfredo Castro), the former dictator retires to a secluded country estate, where he declares himself ready to die for real.

But Pinochet's children don't trust him to go gentle into that good night, especially after they hear about a series of brutal murders-by-heart-removal in Santiago. They conspire with the Catholic church to enlist a young "exorcist nun," Carmencita (Paula Luchsinger), to take out the immortal patriarch.

Will you like it?

In today's movie landscape, where history is often refracted through the lens of comic books, there's nothing outlandish about portraying a real dictator as a bloodsucker. But don't expect El Conde to be a Quentin Tarantino-esque blend of history and B-movie action or a South American version of Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.

Sure, there's a fun moment when Carmencita — who arrives in the guise of an accountant — opens her valise to reveal a stake collection of which Van Helsing would be proud. Just don't hold your breath for her to use those weapons in an action scene.

Narrated archly by a voice (Stella Gonet) that sounds like an off-brand Helen Mirren, El Conde is a Brechtian satire. It holds its characters at a cold remove, inviting us to marvel at the infinite variety of their hypocrisy and greed. Even the narrator is not above such vices, as we eventually learn in a delicious reveal.

Luchsinger gives a star-making performance as Carmencita, whose real weapons are words and a killer smile. The nun questions each family member individually about their financial malfeasance, building a damning case even as she radiates a flirtatious sympathy that is absurdly at odds with her accusations. Confused, disarmed and seduced, the Pinochets open up and reveal the depths of their corruption.

The film comes most alive in these scenes and others in which Larraín goes for his targets' jugulars. The rest of the time, because no one in El Conde changes in any meaningful way, we may not feel especially invested in the story, which feels more like a gothic fever dream than a story at all.

What a fever dream, though! Shooting in black and white with a specially made, crane-mounted digital camera, Larraín and cinematographer Edward Lachman used vintage lenses to make El Conde resemble classic expressionist cinema. The play of light and shadow is mesmerizing, as are the practical effects used for the vampires' flight.

While Pinochet and his decrepit cronies recall Nosferatu, Carmencita is coiffed and posed like Maria Falconetti in The Passion of Joan of Arc. The only young person in this chamber drama, she literally glows with eagerness to be a holy martyr — but even her major ingénue energy turns out to be a cruel joke.

El Conde is a glittering pageant of human nastiness with a theatricality that nods knowingly to the early decades of film. Imagine The Favourite if it had been about recent historical tyrants whose abuses of power felt all too relevant to us. While the movie's message is neither subtle nor new — Pinochet and his ilk are "heroes of greed," capitalist monsters — the film's twists have a provocative kick, and its imagery is as haunting as anything you'll encounter in spooky season.

If you like this, try...

No (2012; Prime Video, rentable): Larraín has made three previous films about Pinochet's regime. This one is about the referendum that began the process of deposing the dictator in 1988, with Gael García Bernal as the ad exec tapped to sell a no vote to the people. The other two (both streaming on Kanopy and OVID) are Post Mortem and Tony Manero.

The Club (2015; Kanopy, PLEX, Tubi, rentable): In El Conde, the Catholic church plays an ambiguously heroic role in opposition to Pinochet. Larraín has a lot more to say about the church in this drama about four Chilean priests living together in exile for various forms of misconduct.

Chile '76 (2023; Hoopla, rentable): Three years after Pinochet's coup, a disaffected Chilean socialite tries to do good by sheltering a dissident in this acclaimed recent political thriller from director Manuela Martelli.